


Hunting for Achievement

by exklusiv



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-07-27
Updated: 2015-02-03
Packaged: 2017-12-21 11:30:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 41,558
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/899773
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/exklusiv/pseuds/exklusiv
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the land of Tex, a country rich in resources, the balance has been upset by a power hungry lord, and one soldier makes it his mission to return the country to order, or die trying.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> This is a minecraftverse fic, based on [the art that royalprat made](http://royalprat.tumblr.com/post/52302544603/fantasy-minecraft-achievement-hunter-outfits) for their minecraft skins. I asked her permission and she let me use them for this.  
> Also this is mostly unbeta'd so if there are mistakes feel free to point them out to me!

It happened so suddenly. No one had even known a treacherous plot had been brewing within the city walls. But it had indeed been brewing, and it had been enacted swiftly. King Matt, much beloved in his kingdom, had been overthrown so quickly that some people still didn’t believe it happened. But indeed, a new king had taken his place: Lord Joel Heyman, who had gathered his rising quickly. Though there was a sadness over the kingdom (who wouldn’t be upset over the loss of a great king?), the people seemed hopeful. King Joel promised their great land a prosperity it hadn’t felt in years. The land of Tex had not fallen on hard times, per se, but they were not a wealthy nation. The new king promised that they would be wealthy again, and the people believed him.

Within a few months, however, the people seemed to see what King Joel meant by prosperity. His idea of prosperity came with a price. He seemed to care little for the people who lived outside the vast walls of their capital, Achievement City, in the villages or smaller towns. He had no problem with using his soldiers to invade the towns and take the people, forcing the men into the dangerous and vast mines in their land, and taking the women within the city walls to live as low as slaves. The mines, which had been largely untouched in King Matt’s reign, were reopened. Men, unskilled in how to navigate the treacherous mines, were forced to get the resources the ancient mines held: coal, iron, diamond, and gold, among other things. Men were injured or killed regularly, either by accidents or by the monsters that lived there; when the people appealed to King Joel for him to stop, he refused.

A number of small revolts were put into place, hoping to rid Joel of his crown. But his soldiers put them down quickly and brutally. Soon, the people became scared and didn’t dare do anything to anger their irascible new king.

Most gave up hope that anything was going to get better. But there was still the lingering hope in the hearts of those who believed that King Matt had not been killed, and that he had been hiding out, waiting for his moment to regain his rightful crown.

* * *

The sun had set, and the people of the city were preparing for sleep. And through the streets of Achievement City, a swarm of soldiers were on the hunt, chasing down a rogue soldier who had run from his barracks. To leave barracks without permission or not on orders meant only one thing: desertion. And the punishment for desertion was death.

The soldier, just shy of gaining his knighthood, had decided that desertion was better than what being a soldier meant. He had been proud to serve under King Matt, happy to wear the colors of the city and protect the land. But in the year that Joel had been king, he’d seen too much death, too much destruction, and he refused to be apart of the madness. So he ran, trying to leave before anyone noticed. But he’d caught the attention of their night watch, and was now being chased as he tried to escape the city.

“Find him! He can’t have gotten too far!”

Fearful and determined, the soldier ran, navigating the city’s streets with ease, running down alleys and on the rooftops, hoping to reach the walls before they caught him. His cause was lost if they caught him. Soon, the wall was in sight, and he ran as fast as he could, hoping he got there before they got him.

A voice shouted at him as he reached the wall. He turned back and saw three soldiers had caught up with him. Their swords were drawn and they were gaining on him. Quickly, the rogue soldier pulled a small, teal pearl from one of the compartments from his belt. Ender Pearls were hard to obtain and tremendously expensive; the Endermen, from which they were taken, were difficult to kill and ruthless when attacked. The pearls themselves were also incredibly fragile, making them hard to transport. This pearl was the accumulation of all of the soldier’s wealth, and it was his last hope. Whispering a prayer to it, he took aim and threw it as far as he could, hoping it would land far. As soon as the pearl left his hand, he was tackled to the ground by the three soldiers; swiftly, two held his arms as the third held a dagger to his throat.

“What are your reasons for desertion, Ramsey, so we may tell His Majesty?”

Bravely, the rogue soldier tilted his chin up as he felt himself get lightheaded. “For the true ruler of Tex.”

And he vanished from the arms of the soldiers. The three soldiers looked around in confusion before the one with the dagger stamped his foot.

“The bastard had an Ender Pearl on him! Find him! Alert the King of his desertion! Bring him to justice!”

Most of the soldiers scattered, running toward the gates of the city, heading into the forest to look for the deserter. But one soldier ran towards the castle in the heart of the city, gaining entrance quickly. Without stopping, he ran towards the throne room and requested an immediate audience with the king. After a moment, he was let in, and he rushed forward, bowing quickly.

“Your Highness, we have a deserter on the run.”

The king, dressed lavishly on his thrown, sat up a little straighter. “And who is this deserter?”

“His name is Geoff Ramsey, sir.”

“And why wasn’t he caught?”

The soldier bowed again. “We would have had him, sir, but he used an Ender Pearl to escape. We have enacted our full efforts to find him and bring him to his punishment.”

The king smiled. “Oh, no, there will be no need for that. Full efforts are not necessary.”

“…Your Highness?”

“Tell me, soldier, are you aware of what Ender Pearls do?”

“I… believe they transport people, Highness.”

“But,” Joel said, raising his hands. “At a price. Ender Pearls injure those whom they transport. You say this soldier used one, and went into the forest with it? I wouldn’t worry too much. Maybe he is getting away. But he’s injured. And all sorts of things come out in the forest at night. Search for him. But be wary. And don’t worry. If you don’t catch him, the things in the forest will. You are dismissed.”

The soldier backed away slowly, bowing as he went. Joel stroked his beard, smiling.

“My goodness, Geoff, running away, are we? Let’s hope those monsters get you and give you a more merciful death than we would.”

* * *

In the woods, in complete silence, the rogue soldier, Geoff Ramsey, lay on the ground, doubled in on himself, clutching his ribs. He knew the risks associated with an Ender Pearl, and he was now paying the price; he could have sworn he had cracked ribs. He wanted to lay there on the ground for the rest of eternity, but he dare not stay there too long. If the soldiers hunting him did not find him, the nocturnal creatures that roamed the forests would. And, at present, he couldn’t decide which was worse. Trying his hardest to ignore the pain, Geoff stood gingerly and pulled out his map, keeping an ear out for anything unwanted. Finding a heading by moonlight, Geoff walked forward, his ribs protesting with every inhale.

He couldn’t be sure how long he’d been walking, but that didn’t concern him, not when he felt a cold chill run down his spine. Turning around quickly, his blood turned to ice as he came eye-to-eye with the mottled green monster that was moving swiftly towards him.

Creepers were a cruel prank, played by a powerful sorcerer generations before. They had no other purpose other than destruction, and they brought their destruction by exploding. They regenerated quickly, effectively pulling themselves back together after exploding. And this creeper had his sights set on Geoff.

With his ribs burning with pain, Geoff took off running through the uneven terrain, trying to overcome his pain to save his life. He ran as fast as he could, but still felt the presence of the creeper behind him. And it wasn’t long before Geoff came along a ravine, tall, with a tiny river at the bottom. The gap was too wide to jump, and the forest was thick on either side. Geoff had no idea how deep the water was in the river, and thought it foolhardy to jump and risk actual death over a chance to keep running from the creeper. He hadn’t been contemplating for a moment when the noise of a fuse burning met his ears. The creeper was moments away from exploding. Running in either direction would have been pointless; a creeper’s blast radius was enormous. So, Geoff took his only option: he closed his eyes and leapt forward, falling straight down as the loud boom of explosion crashed through the air. Sucking in a deep breath, against the wishes of his ribs, Geoff straightened out and hit the water. The impact was harsh and his already injured body did not enjoy the additional pain, but the water was deep and calm. With everything aching, Geoff swam to the top of the river and breathed in the cool air. His heavy armor dragged him down significantly as he fought to get to the river’s edge, and when he finally made it, he was thoroughly exhausted. After crawling on the bank, Geoff turned on his back and lay there, shivering from the cold water and overcome with pain.

Vaguely, he hoped no soldiers found him here in the ravine, not after he outran them, a creeper, and managed to stay alive by jumping into a river. With a hand on his ribs, Geoff’s vision went blurry as his adrenaline disappeared and the amount of pain he was in overtook him, consciousness leaving him. His last thought was that he hoped it was worth it.

* * *

Geoff awoke feeling incredibly warm. With bleary eyes, he tried to make out the vague shapes around him. When the haze cleared, he noticed he was in what seemed like a hut, lit completely by torches. He tried to sit up, then felt the searing pain of his cracked ribs force him back down.

“Oh, good, you’re awake,” a cheerful, deep voice said to his left. Turning his head, Geoff saw a man dressed in black, hovering over something on a table. Automatically, he reached for his sword, and suddenly became very nervous when all he felt was a tunic; his weapons and armor were gone.

“Who are you?” he managed, trying to formulate a plan.

“Please relax, increasing your heart rate isn’t going to solve anything.” The man turned; he had a stretch of tartan fabric on his waist, held up by a belt. In his hand, he held a bottle of blue liquid.

“If you’re planning on poisoning me, just know that, as a soldier, I’ve built immunity to most poisons,” Geoff lied smoothly, trying to intimidate the man.

“Geoff! You’re awake!”

Geoff looked forward and saw a familiar face, covered in a red beard. “Jack.”

Jack Pattillo, a cartographer and general builder, had known Geoff for years; the two trusted each other with their lives. Having Jack around made Geoff much more at ease. “I was worried maybe a spider had gotten to you. Glad to see you’re still living.”

“How did you find me?”

“I didn’t. He did. And then he found me, too,” Jack said, pointing to the man, who smiled grandly.

“My name is Ryan Haywood. And this little potion? It should stitch you up, good as new. Drink.”

Geoff warily took the bottle from Ryan’s hand and looked at Jack, who shrugged. With a sigh, he put the bottle to his lips and tilted his head back, sucking down the foul-tasting liquid. As soon as the bottle was empty, the potion started swirling in his belly. He dropped the bottle as pain suddenly seared throughout his entire body, white-hot and unbearable. Geoff was sure he’d been tricked and this was the end, but after a moment that felt like an eternity, the pain disappeared, and Geoff doubled over the edge of the bed he was on, panting.

“Healing potions are the worst,” he moaned, knuckles scraping against the dirt floor. “Someone get me a drink.”

Jack walked over to his pack and began rummaging through it, pulling out a bottle of amber liquid and a metal cup. Geoff, still a little worse for wear, mustered the energy to look at Ryan.

“So, who exactly are you and what do you want with us?”

Ryan smiled. “Well, Geoff, I’m the person who’s going to help with your cause.”


	2. I

“I can’t just sit around here anymore. Too much time has passed. We’re wasting time by being complacent. We’re no better than he is!”

Jack laced his fingers together and looked at his two comrades over them, his eyes darting between them. It had been two years and three months since King Joel had overthrown King Matt and began ruling Tex, and one year and two months since Geoff had deserted Achievement City. In those long fourteen months, Geoff had been waiting impatiently; he had deserted his duty as a soldier to gather a following to bring down Joel in his tyranny. He knew it would take some time to enact, as gathering a rebellion did not happen overnight. But he had been planning to be doing more than keeping his skills and his sword sharp while he, Ryan, and Jack bounced around the kingdom, keeping hidden, avoiding the bounty Geoff had on his head.

“We’ve done nothing wrong. I can’t see any way we’re comparable to him,” Ryan said calmly, running a crystal marble over a large, round mirror.

“By sitting here and doing nothing, we’ve allowed the deterioration of our state! We’re passively allowing him to mistreat the people of this kingdom! We may as well be planning with him!”

“If I may interject—”

“And I have told you before, Geoff, if we move at any other time besides the one that would bring us the most benefits, we will be little more than sitting ducks. Easy targets for the executioner.”

“I have something to say—”

Geoff slammed his hands down on their table and stood, glaring down at the mage. “Then what is the opportune time? You’ve kept that a secret as well! You showed up out of the blue, say you’re an ally to the cause, and yet, the more I try to enact an action, you shoot me down, tell me it’s not the right time! Are you really helping us? Or are you really on Joel’s side? Are you just misleading us?”

“Could I please—”

“I have given you no reason not to trust me! I have kept us safe, kept us alive, and kept us alert. I know when to strike, and I believe in the cause as much as you do!”

Angry and irrational, Geoff drew his sword. Immediately, Ryan grabbed his staff and stood, the red stone in it glowing. Finally losing his patience, Jack stood and shoved them both back down into their seats. “That is enough! Both of you, put those away!” 

With a long, tense sigh, Geoff sheathed his sword and sat back down, crossing his arms. Ryan did the same, setting his staff gently against the table. Jack waited for a moment, letting them both stew in silence before sitting himself back down and speaking calmly.

“Alright. Now, Geoff, you have to understand. Ryan has the eyes on everything. He’s using all his power to see the outcomes. We have to trust him. And you, Ryan, you have been very good to us. But you can’t keep us in the dark like this and expect us to keep trusting you. You’re basically leaving us blind, and that’s worrying.”

Ryan huffed and began rolling the marble on the mirror again as Geoff looked out the window, hand wrapped gently around the pendant he wore around his neck.

“I can’t tell you when exactly this is going to happen. But it’s going to happen soon. Very soon.”

* * *

Miles away, in Achievement City, a lady of breeding sat at her own window, staring out at the sunset with a slight air of melancholy. A knock on her door broke her out of her reverie, and she called for an entrance.

In walked a young girl, dressed like a handmaiden. She lowered her head. “Lady Griffon, you are expected by His Majesty.”

The lady, Griffon, sighed and stood. “I suppose I could no longer put this off. I shall be down in a moment. Thank you, Barbara.”

The handmaiden bowed again and exited. Griffon touched the pendant she wore and sighed again, still looking out the window.

“I’ve tried staying strong for you, my love,” she said quietly. “But there’s only so much sadness I can endure.”

Down in the banquet hall, lord and ladies gathered in a feast, to celebrate a recent discovery of a vein of gold in a mine. The discovery meant that there would be more wealth for them and their pockets, depending on how well they played their cards. The feast was intended for the nobility to do a little song and dance to please the king; whoever did the best show got the most gold “to improve living among the cities.”

The lady, Griffon O’Connell, did not appreciate such obvious boot-licking, especially for King Joel. She despised the man wholly and tried to keep her distance from him as much as possible. However, the harder she tried to avoid him, the more he tried to include her. So, she descended the stairs into the hall with as much grace and dignity as she could muster, keeping her chin up as the loud voices of the feasting nobles drifted through the air. She would be expected to eat, but she had already lost her appetite.

Upon entering the hall, a servant bowed to her and led her to her seat. She tried to keep her composure as the servant led her near the head of the table, on the king’s left. She allowed the servant to pull the chair for her, then kept her gaze on the wood grain of the table, and not to the man with the lavish crown on his head.

But it seemed that this man refused to be ignored. “Why, Lady Griffon, it is so nice of you to finally join our little celebration.”

“I can imagine that it is, Your Highness,” Griffon said smoothly, trying to show as little irritation as she could. Some, however, could not be masked.

“You seem rather upset with me,” Joel said nonchalantly, picking up his wine goblet. “Have I done something to displease you?”

Griffon folded her hands in her lap. “I just don’t see how this is means for celebration. We are all well aware that our land is rich with minerals, so this celebration seems redundant.”

“Any new discovery that will bring us to more prosperity is worth celebrating.”

“Is it?”

Joel looked at her over the rim of his goblet, then smiled. “Why, of course, My Lady. What else could warrant such celebration? That was the aim, wasn’t it? Bring us more prosperity?”

“More prosperity to the land of Tex, I thought it was. I should think, if that were the case, that more of the city’s inhabitants would be here, or that the celebration would be held in the square. Instead, we’ve sequestered ourselves away, sharing none of this with the people.”

Joel was very quiet as he regarded Griffon. After a moment, he leaned in towards her slightly. “I notice, Lady Griffon, that your clothes are not as well kept as they should be. Perhaps it is because you’re wearing an old dress. You do know, My Lady, that we have the finest fabrics to make you new dresses. An entirely new wardrobe, if that’s what you desire. I could send my tailors to you at once.”

“I see nothing wrong with this dress. It is old, yes, but it is completely functional. And I see no reason to spend money so carelessly.

“Carelessly?” Joel laughed. “You seem to be forgetting, Lady Griffon, just how prosperous we are! I do not dress this lavishly because we are destitute.”

Griffon looked up at Joel and set her jaw, looking at him with cold eyes. “We are prosperous, yes. But should a king not reflect his country? You should be wearing rags.”

Joel’s dark eyes hardened into black ice at her words, but his voice kept its smoothness. “A lady should remember her place.”

“I do apologize, Sire. I should remember my place, just like a lord should remember his.”

A muscle twitched underneath Joel’s eye; the spasm was almost imperceptible, and it was the only show of emotion on his face as Griffon lifted her own goblet to her lips and took a sip of wine. As she drank, Joel leaned back in his chair and smirked. “You know, Lady Griffon, I’ve heard so many things about what goes on outside these walls. I have a mage in my circle, as you may know, and I trust him very much with things that have to do with the welfare of the kingdom. He has the ability to look into the goings on of Tex. I am king, after all, I have to make sure my people are happy.”

Griffon resisted the urge to roll her eyes. “Yes, you do.”

“And, it’s funny,” Joel said, reaching for an apple that sat on a tray in front of him. “He tells me he’s heard tale of this little group who just really don’t like me.”

“There are tales about everything in the land of Tex. What can really be believed?”

“Like the tale of the soldier that escaped death of desertion?”

Griffon swallowed harshly, trying to hide her face behind her goblet. “Oh, you delight in that tale. I don’t think you dislike it as much as you are amused by it.”

“I’m fascinated by it. His body was never found, did you know that? I assumed that he’d be destroyed by the monsters in the night, but what if I’m wrong? There should have been something to find.”

“Creepers are nasty little things, aren’t they? They like to destroy everything. I don’t think they leave anything left, they even demolish the terrain around them.”

“Have you ever heard the identity of the soldier?”

“I don’t believe I have ever been told who it was, Your Highness.”

Joel bit into the apple and chewed the piece, looking highly amused. “Honestly? How interesting, Lady Griffon. I could have sworn you knew him. Geoff Ramsey, I believe he was called.”

Griffon shut her eyes and ignored the ache in her stomach. She’d thought his name many times, but it had been so long since she’d actually heard it spoken, and the ice of longing pierced her. “I knew him, as I knew many soldiers. I had assumed he’d been sent on a quest, or some other venture for the country. He deserted, did he? What a shame, he had promise.”

“He did have promise. He was close to obtaining his knighthood, as I understand it. A pity he didn’t.” Joel took another bite of the apple, chewing it thoughtfully. “Had he been a knight, I might have spared him if he came back. But since he wasn’t, he has no choice but to die if he returns.”

The thought sent a chill down Griffon’s spine. “Maybe, Your Highness, you could show mercy.”

“A traitor is a traitor, Lady Griffon. I cannot treat one any differently than the next.”

“Exceptions can be made.”

Joel gave Griffon an inquisitive stare. “Do you perhaps know something I do not, My Lady?”

“I know no more than you do, Sire. I’d even say that I know less. What does a lady know of fugitives or rogue soldiers or things such as this?”

“I suppose that is true. A silly little girl doesn’t know many things.”

Griffon opened her mouth to speak, but another lord came up to Joel, sloshing wine on himself, laughing as he engaged Joel in conversation. Seeing an escape, Griffon quietly excused herself and quickly left the hall. Outside the doors, her handmaiden Barbara waited for her.

“Leaving already, My Lady?”

“Barbara, I beg of you, send a cup of brandy up to my room. I need something to relax myself with.”

“As you wish, My Lady.”

Griffon felt slightly guilty, sending her highest handmaiden to do a simple servant’s work, but she trusted Barbara to not ask questions and be kind about it. As Griffon walked up the steps towards her room, she grabbed her red stone pendant and gripped it tightly, willing some of her love into it.

She hoped, from deep in her soul, that he could feel it, wherever he was.

* * *

Geoff was losing his very last ounce of patience. He was in the makeshift yard that Jack had fashioned for the hideout he’d constructed out of the opening of an abandoned mineshaft, one hidden unless they knew what to look for. The night was cool but his temper was not, and he had half a mind to engage his plan, with or without Ryan and Jack, if it took any longer.

Less than a week before, Ryan had reminded him to be patient and wait for the opportune moment. And Jack, his dear old friend, had managed to keep him complacent and relaxed, but it wouldn’t hold for much longer.

So he sat in front of their hideout, bathed in moonlight, sharpening his sword while the country fell into ruin around him. He had been sitting quietly amid the humming breeze that danced through the branches of the trees when he was suddenly being shouted out; the shock made him nearly slice his hand open on the steel of his blade.

“Geoff, it’s time! The moment we’ve been waiting for, it’s here! Quickly, do what you need to do to prepare yourself, we must leave soon!”

Geoff stood quickly, staring Ryan down. “Okay, okay, where are we going? Who are we looking for?”

“Trust me, you’ll know him when you see him. Now, hurry, we haven’t a moment to lose! Get your armor on, we must leave!”

Geoff sheathed his sword and ran past Ryan, jumping down the concealed hole that was the entrance to their hideout. Jack was already in the middle of the room, filling his pack with supplies.

“He told you, then?” Jack asked, rolling up his map.”

Geoff nodded, wasting no time with words. With the speed and efficiency being a soldier had taught him, Geoff slid into his chainmail and began strapping on his armor, feeling oddly at home in the metal and leather. With his sword tied around his waist and his shield on his arm, he felt more ready than ever.

“He said we’d know who he was when he saw him, what does that even mean?”

Jack shrugged as he put his pack on his shoulders. “Haven’t the foggiest. But Ryan seemed excited, so I guess we should be excited, too. He did tell us that it was going to come together very quickly, didn’t he? If this is the beginning, then it shouldn’t take much longer.”

As Geoff pulled on his arm guards and tightened them, he shrugged. “I hope it is. If Ryan makes me wait another year, I may just gut him myself.”

* * *

Ryan knew the location, it seemed, but not the actual land point. So, he gave Jack a heading and they moved quickly, Geoff’s sword drawn automatically for any sign of danger. Ryan’s staff lit their way, sending everything in a red glow that was surprisingly efficient. They didn’t have to travel far, but apparently, where they did travel, Geoff was not happy about it.

“That’s the place. That’s it, right there,” Ryan said happily, pointing with his staff.

Geoff choked. “A tavern? You led us to a tavern? Ryan, do you have any idea how close to the city walls we are?”

“I don’t see how it matters.”

Geoff brandished his sword in Ryan’s direction. “I have a Goddamn bounty on my head! If anyone in there recognizes me, we’re all dead! And we will have spent a very long fourteen months having a death camping trip!”

Jack sighed and pushed Geoff’s sword down gently. “Please calm down.”

“I wouldn’t have led us here if I thought we’d be in danger. No one here will know who you are. You’ll just be another soldier after a drink. Trust me.”

“I am getting really tired of having to trust you,” Geoff muttered, sheathing his sword and walking up to the tavern. The odd trio entered the front doors and saw the atmosphere of the tavern was a bit unexpected. The outside was shabby, but the inside was light, friendly, the kind of place a man could come and get a drink that came with a pretty girl to flirt with; both were equally warming. Inside, everyone was wrapped up in themselves and no one paid the three men any mind.

“So, who exactly are we looking for?” Jack asked, looking around curiously.

“A gambling table.”

Geoff glanced around and saw nothing but tables where men were drinking. But Jack seemed to see further than he did.

“Look, in the little side room. Card tables.”

Geoff led the way over, noticing there was quite a cluster of people huddled around one table in particular. They shoved their way in (it helped tremendously that Jack was large and intimidating, though he was not actually aggressive) and witnessed an odd sight.

Two people sat at the one table; it seemed everyone else had been eliminated from the game. In the middle was a large stack of coins; the two players had stacks that were equally as large. One man, the one closest to the trio, was rather menacing, with scars on his face and two dual swords on his back. His face was a constant sneer. Across the table sat a smaller fellow, dressed entirely in black with a hood up over his eyes and a single red rose on his chest. The two bet more money each time, neither one giving anything away with a poker face. Geoff looked at the man with the dual swords, studied his menacing expression, and decided having a man on their side as tough as him wouldn’t be so bad.

“So, we’re hoping for dual swords?” Geoff murmured to his comrades. Jack looked ready to agree, but Ryan shook his head.

“No, the other one.”

Geoff gave Ryan a disbelieving look. “The scrawny kid? He’s all bones! He’s even wearing a Goddamn flower.”

“Don’t you trust me?”

“The trust is slowly disappearing.”

As the bids got higher, the man with dual swords grinned and shoved his entire stack of coins to the center. “All in.”

A gasp and a series of mutters came from the crowd. Several encouraged the man in black to fold and play another game; he still had plenty of coins left. However, the man in black smirked and pushed his entire pile of coins in as well. “I’ll match that.”

The man with the dual swords chuckled and shook his head. “That’s a fool’s choice, boy. I’d have called it then, if I were you. Had some money to walk away with.”

“Well, then, it’s a good thing you’re not me, isn’t it? I’d have made a poor decision just then, if you were me.”

“Come on, lad, I’m being generous. I’ll give you one last chance to take back your bet and fold. That’s more than gracious.”

The smirk got haughtier. “What are you afraid of, coward?”

The sneer returned. “Don’t tell me I didn’t try, boy.”

With a flourish, he tossed down his hand of cards. “Full house, in three queens and two aces.”

A mixture of cheers for the sneering man and apologies for the black-clad man came from the crowd. The sneering man shrugged and reached for the pile. “Sorry, lad, better luck next time.”

Quietly, without any wasted movement, the man in black turned his hand of cards around and fanned them out for display. “Royal flush, spades.”

The man with the sneer looked on in disbelief as the smirk on the man grew into a full-fledged smile. “Too bad, friend. Maybe you should have folded when you had the chance.”

“You’re a Goddamn cheater!” the man with dual swords yelled, pulling them out angrily. A few people made noises of fear and distress, but the man in black seemed unperturbed.

“You’re more than welcome to search for my cards. I assure you, you won’t find anything on me. But you wouldn’t dare start a fight in front of a soldier, would you?”

It took Geoff a moment to realize the man in black was referring to him. He looked around, suddenly very aware of all the eyes on him. A cold sweat broke out on his back.

“If anything, it’ll make it more convenient to arrest you for your crimes.”

“And what crime have I committed? Do us both a favor and put those swords away, you’ll only embarrass yourself.”

The man with the dual swords glared heavily at the man in black, then sheathed his swords and began walking away. Casually, the man in black cleared his throat.

“Ah, excuse me, I believe you owe me money.”

“And how in blazes do you come to that conclusion?”

The man shrugged. “You were all-in. That means I take all the money on the table if I won, and I did. So hand it over.”

“To the nether with you, boy, I’ll not be called a liar.”

The man turned to leave. Fluidly, the man in black pulled a knife out of the top of his boot, glanced at the sneering man, and threw it. Several people shrieked as the knife landed on the wall right in front of the man’s face. He looked over at the man in black, then chuckled, pulled the knife out of the wall, and threw it back.

With a speed and agility Geoff had never witnessed before, the man in black halfway yanked out a sword, the motion blocking the knife and knocking it away from him, causing no harm. As he pushed the sword back in its sheath, the man pushed off of the table and leapt over it, landing on his feet on the other side of the card table, drawing another knife when he hit the ground. The sneering man reached for his own swords, but before he had the chance, the man jumped up, kicked his feet forward, and kicked the sneering man in the chest, knocking the wind out of his lungs and his back against the wall. He spun in the air, propelled slightly more upward by his hands on the table, landed on his feet on the edge of the table, drew another knife, and threw both of them at the man. They caught the shoulders of his shirt and pinned him to the wall; the entire thing had taken less than fifteen seconds.

Geoff was more impressed with his own ability to keep his jaw off the floor. He suddenly saw in a new light why Ryan had been after the man in black all along; he could not blame him.

As the sneering man panted and tried to get his breath back, the man in black strode over and reached under the leather cuffs on his arms, pulling out two coins from each. “You’re a pathetic loser and an even worse card player.”

The man fell to the floor as the man in black pulled the knives out of the wall. Carelessly, the man in black tossed one gold coin into the air; it landed on the winded man’s chest. “Go buy yourself a drink and clean up. And here’s hoping you don’t make this mistake twice, understood?”

The man nodded and shakily stood up, hobbling towards the bar. The people started to clear out after that, talking about what they’d just seen, everyone in a state of disbelief. The man in black collected his knives and placed them back on his person before gathering his money and organizing it.

When the last person left, the trio approached the man in black, who was carefully examining his coins. He glanced up and smiled. “Hello, friends. I hope you’re not looking for a game, I’m all gamed out tonight.”

“No, we’re here just to talk,” Jack said.

“Then pull up a chair friends. Barmaid! Ale for my new friends!”

“You’re very quick to call us friends,” Ryan observed, sitting down on the man’s left.

“It pays to be a friend in my business. I gotta say, soldier, I must thank you for being the reason that fight lasted as short as it did. I didn’t want to waste so much time on him, and you gave me the reason to cut it down. Are you even on duty?”

Geoff cleared his throat. “I... no, I’m not.”

“Ah, well, it still helped. Thank you, lovely barmaid,” the man said, handing over a few coins when she brought them all a drink. She departed, and the man looked at his tankard of ale.

“Up for grabs, an extra drink. Who wants it?”

“You don’t want it?” Geoff asked incredulously.

The man in black shrugged. “I have no interest in addled senses. I like to stay as sharp as I can at all times.”

“It’s pretty lucky how you had that royal flush. That’s a hard hand to get without cheating,” Jack noted, lifting his tankard.

“Hmm? Oh, no, I did cheat,” the man said cheerfully, smiling. “Bastard had it coming, too. He’s done some nasty things to the barmaids around here, I thought it time to teach him a much more polite lesson than the ones I’m used to teaching.”

With his tankard half way up to his mouth, Geoff started laughing. “Oh, God, that is brilliant. You’re a crafty son of a bitch.”

“I do try to be.” The man leaned his chin on his fist. “So, friends, what kind of conversation can I offer you?”

“My name is Ryan Haywood, and these are my associates Jack Pattillo and Geoff Ramsey. And we’re gathering up members of a revolution.”

Geoff slapped the palm of his hand against his forehead. They were going to be arrested and executed before they knew if it that’s how Ryan went about things. Casually, the man shrugged.

“Sounds interesting. What does that have to do with me?”

“What makes you think it has anything to do with you?” Geoff asked testily.

“Several reasons,” the man said, playing with a few of the coins. “You obviously came looking for me, and in my line of work, people don’t just seek me out to have a few drinks and discuss the weather. You saw what I’m capable of in a very small dose, and that would make you interested. And, if you’re really staging a revolution, you’ll want skill, so you’ll want me. So I’m asking: what does this have to do with me?”

Geoff looked around, as if nervous for spies, and leaned in close. “We are going to end the tyranny of King Joel. And we can only do that if we have someone of your caliber on our side. We need you.”

After a moment of thought, the man scratched his chin. “Let me get this straight. You want me to enter a rebellion against a king I have no personal problem with, entering a conflict I have no stake in, where the only two outcomes are victory or the executioner’s block? And all this because you saw me attack a man who was not being honest with me, when I had been cheating the whole time?”

The three sat silent, feeling a little silly when they heard it phrased that way. However, despite the consensus that the man was going to refuse, he grinned widely. “That sounds like an absolute riot.”

Casually, the man pulled his hood up. He had patchy but uniform facial hair and short, unkempt hair. His skin was several shades darker than the rest of the men’s, and he wore lenses over his eyes, like Jack did. He held his hands out, as if inviting the three to drink his the sight.

“Ray Narvaez II, assassin of the Rose Red brotherhood. I’m in.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ooooooh look we have character introduction! Look at Ray, that smooth motherfucker. Man we're getting shit rolling let's do this oh maaaaan! I hope you guys like this I really really do.


	3. II

Having Ray jump onto their bandwagon of treason so quickly threw all three of the men for a loop, and it took a while for them to adjust. Ray took easily to their lifestyle; what they lived in, he said, was better than what he had.

“Don’t let all the flash and panache fool you, boys. I’m a man of simple things. This is a lavish castle to me. And I love it.”

Ray was a constant fascination for each of them. They had acquired several varieties of weapons in their time on the run, should the need to use them ever arise, and Ray liked to play with all of them (though Geoff called it showing off more than playing). He showed an adept skill with each of them, from the spears to the bows and arrows and even Jack’s heavy ax. He even managed to get Ryan’s staff away from him long enough to show he knew a few simple spells.

He called himself a jack of all trades, but his true calling was in dual wielding. He and Geoff sparred a little, keeping each other on their toes as Geoff brandished his sword and protected himself with his shield. Ray had a sword in one hand and a dagger in the other, and it took all of thirty seconds for Ray to not only disarm Geoff, but to steal his shield and use it against him. Geoff had pouted for a bit, but eventually let it go, and even had the good graces to ask how Ray managed it and if he could learn it.

Ray, however, declined. “Even if we had the time, which we apparently don’t, I could never reveal the techniques of the brotherhood. Go and become a member of Rose Red, and then we’ll talk.”

There was a little something about Ray that had them all in a tizzy. His openness about belonging to a brotherhood very famous for being paid assassins astounded Jack, who had only ever heard Rose Red as a way to chat up girls; it was a selling point, to brag that one had enough skill to be in the legendary Rose Red. His nonchalance to the entire nation of Tex befuddled Geoff; Ray’s heritage, whether or not he was born there (he shrugged and hadn’t answered when asked), belonged to Portri, a nation just southeast of Tex, and Geoff could not figure out why Ray had so willingly joined in to fight for a nation some people would say he had no business being in. Ray shrugged a lot when asked.

But Ryan, by far, was the most intent on learning the most about Ray, as Ray was apparently covered in magic. Every weapon he owned was inscribed with some type of rune, most of which were for power, some for accuracy; they glowed red when Ray began to use them. He had a barrage of potions in his possession, but it was a simple accessory of Ray’s that had Ryan absolutely fascinated.

“It’s an excellent spell,” Ryan said, examining the rose pinned to Ray’s chest. “Very powerful, should last for many years. And it has kept it in excellent condition as well; it’s a perfectly bloomed rose.”

“Ah, it was perfect when I received it. I just made sure it stayed that way.”

“Is this something that all Rose Reds wear?”

Ray paused. “No, actually. Just me. It’s a bit of a token.”

“From a pretty girl?” Geoff teased, fluttering his eyelashes.

Ryan looked up. “So it’s from a lover, is it?”

Again, Ray paused, his eyebrows furrowed. Jack was about to ask what was wrong when Ray shrugged. “It’s not nearly so sentimental. I merely enjoy roses; placing a spell on this one to be everlasting is much easier than finding a new one every day.”

His tone of voice made Geoff believe he was lying through his teeth, but none of them pressed the matter. Like no one said a word about the red stone locket Geoff kept on his person at all times, no one would badger Ray about if his rose really had come from a lover or not. It was his business.

Ray had been with them for little more than a week, acting as if he’d known these men for years, when Ryan proclaimed it was time to find their next member. They geared up, prepared themselves, were given a heading, and then let Jack lead them to where Ryan had seen them going.

It took less than an hour of walking through thick forest before Ryan threw a hand out and stopped them. “This is the place.”

Geoff looked around, his eyebrows furrowing. “There’s nothing around here.”

Ray hopped up and grabbed a tree branch, hauling himself up on the branch. “Jack, hand me your spyglass.”

Jack retrieved his spyglass and tossed it up to Ray. With a nod, Ray took the spyglass, lifted his hood up, and scrambled up a little further into the tree. They lost sight of him, but they could hear him.

“Ryan, give me a direction.”

“Southeast. Watch the rocks on the cliff over there.”

It was silent for a few moments. Then there was a rustle of leaves. “Ryan, you’ve lost your mind.”

“You and Geoff have been spending too much time together.”

“I’m serious, Ryan. The only thing over there is a wild chicken.”

Geoff gawked and looked at Ryan. “You made me walk an hour into the woods, at night, so we could go stare at a Goddamn chicken?”

“Your unwavering faith in me is astounding.”

“Something’s off about this whole situation,” Jack said, stroking his beard. “I don’t think Ryan would have taken us out here for nothing, but if there’s really nothing but a chicken, I do have to wonder if you got the time wrong.”

“I am heading back.”

“No, wait, Geoff, this is serious, I’m not—”

“Oh!”

The trio stopped. Jack looked up into the tree. “What is it? Almost fall?”

“Rose Reds don’t fall out of anything. No! No, something just… something just took out the chicken!”

Geoff had his shield across his body in an instant. “What, like a spider? Should we move?”

“No, it got shot with an arrow! And it was a damn good shot!”

“How good?” Ryan asked quickly.

“Right between the eyes.”

“Skeleton,” Jack said nervously, holding his ax tightly.

“Skeletons aren’t nearly good enough shots for that, and they don’t attack animals. A human did this. But I can’t see it…”

They stood quietly. Jack and Geoff looked like they were waiting for an explosion, but Ryan looked calm and collected, his staff held in front of him as if he didn’t have a care in the world.

They had been standing for about ten minutes when Ray spoke. “There! A person, coming out of the woods, from down the ridge. Got a bow in his hands.”

“That’s our guy. We’re looking for an archer,” Ryan said, holding his staff out, as if to point.

“Are we also looking for a slow archer? It took him forever to get to the chicken,” Geoff asked, crossing his arms.

“This guy is actually running pretty fast,” Ray commented. A few leaves fell out of the tree. “He was booking it down that ridge, there. Alright, he’s got the chicken! And now he’s... setting up camp.”

“Excuse me?”

A few more leaves fell out of the tree. “He’s getting a setup for a fire and he’s got like a thing… what even is… oh, it’s a blanket. Yeah, it looks like he’s going to hang out there for a while.”

A whole bunch of leaves came out of the tree in quick succession; Ray soon followed, hitting the ground deftly. He tossed the spyglass back to Jack, who tucked it into his pack.

“Well, gentlemen, let’s go get him. And be quick about it,” Ryan said, heading off.

“Hey, hang on, let the stealthy assassin go first,” Ray said, cutting in front of Ryan and darting off, making no noise as he ran down to where this mysterious archer had set up temporary camp.

They followed swiftly, and it was only until they were thick in the forest that Geoff realized they had absolutely no plan of attack. His soldier instincts told him that this was a very bad idea and he became edgy as they made their way into the clearing where the archer had settled.

Ray was ahead of them about twenty feet when he crouched down and waved them forward. They all came up behind him and crouched, listening.

“Alright, we can assume this guy is a good shot,” Ray murmured, looking at his comrades. “But is he a friendly?”

“I didn’t see if he was or not,” Ryan replied. “I just saw him as our next member.”

“What kind of context did you see him in?” Geoff asked.

“I saw us carrying him away.”

Jack readjusted his eye lenses. “So we can assume that he’s going to be hostile towards us.”

“So we really only have the option of an ambush,” Geoff said, leaning on his sword. “All we can do is hope that he’s not going to be able to handle four people.”

Ray shrugged and quietly crept closer to the clearing, motioning for the other three to wait. The trees were thick and gave him good coverage, and with his abilities as an assassin, he really didn’t think he’d be spotted. He was about ten feet from the clearing when the sharp twang of an arrow being released pulsed through the air and an arrow landed not two inches above his head on a tree.

Quickly, he drew out both weapons and sprinted forward, his long cape flowing out behind. He jumped into the clearing and brandished both weapons, but he saw nothing. The only thing around was the small fire with the cleaned chicken on a spit, still pink, barely cooked at all. Ray looked around, hoping to catch a glimpse of anything.

The sound of an arrow shaft gliding along the wood of a bow, whisper soft, met his ears, and Ray reacted immediately. The twang came after he’d dived out of the way, and the arrow landed right where he had been moments before. Quickly, he held his sword out in front of him, looking in the direction the arrow came from.

“I want no fights here!” he called out, crouched defensively.

After a moment, a figure stepped out of the shadow of the trees. The archer was thin, with tight-fitting clothing. His attire, once he stepped into the light of the fire, was shown to be various shades of green; Ray instantly recognized the mottled green leather on his torso as the hide of a creeper. He had on a hood that had long, trailing wraps, like an oversized scarf, and his bow was pulled back tight, the feathers of the arrow resting against his cheek, with the sharp head of the arrow pointed straight at Ray.

“Who are you and what do you want?” the archer asked, his eyes fierce beneath the hood. He spoke with an accent.

“It’s not important who I am,” Ray said, the runes on his sword glowing bright red.

“I’d say it is. I have to tell them to put something on your gravestone.”

“I am not a threat to you,” Ray replied earnestly. The archer snorted.

“You stalking me and holding out your weapons does little to convince me otherwise. I’m going to give you one chance to turn and leave. Don’t you dare think I’ve been missing you because you were moving.”

Ray was not easily intimidated. But the way this archer spoke let him know that he was not kidding, and he could probably pierce Ray’s skull before Ray had the chance to blink. So, he put away both weapons and held his hands up as he backed away. He knew that he’d have to pin this archer down, or otherwise make him incapable of shooting the bow. As he turned to return the forest, he discreetly pulled a throwing knife from the top of his boot, prepared to disarm the archer and call for his comrades.

Quickly, he spun around, ready to throw the knife. As he brought the blade up, an arrow whizzed by him, caught his hood, and stuck into the tree behind him. Stunned, he called out to his comrades and tried to pull the arrow out of the tree. In quick succession, two more arrows came, one pinning his glove to the tree, another, his cape. Ray was completely stuck; the first arrow was refusing to budge. Freeing himself from three seemed impossible.

Ray looked into the clearing and saw the archer pull an arrow back in the bow, eyes locked on Ray. He was about to tear out of his clothing when a flash of light appeared and a rock went whizzing through the air, trailing a path of smoke. The archer looked around, suddenly realizing that Ray had not been alone. Ryan came out into the clearing, the giant orb of red stone at the end of his staff glowing brightly. The archer took aim, but suddenly Geoff came out from the other side, his sword looking large and menacing in the light of the fire. 

Ray managed to free himself from two arrows and was working on the one that kept his cape stuck to the tree when he noticed that the archer no longer looked as fierce as he had. Instead, he looked very nervous, and he kept glancing down at the dagger strapped to his thigh. He may have been a crack shot with an arrow, but it appeared he may have been not as adept with hand-to-hand combat.

“We do not want to harm you. But we will if you don’t cooperate,” Ryan said slowly, closing in cautiously on the archer.

“What do you want with me?” the archer asked, unsure about whom to aim at.

“Come with us, and we’ll tell you,” Geoff said, pointing his sword.

The archer turned and started backing to the woods. He slowly put his bow down, then replaced the arrow in his quiver. Geoff was about to sheathe his sword when the archer reached into a small pouch on his waist, pulled out a tiny sphere, and turned his bow around, pulling the opposite way on the string, the sphere tucked into a little square of leather.

“Shit, that’s an Ender Pearl! Jack, now!” Geoff said, rushing forward.

Jack came out of the woods and smacked the archer upside the head with a large rock. The archer stayed upright for a moment, then fell to the ground in a slump, his eyes rolled back in his head. As he fell, his limbs went limp, and his aim went rogue as his grip on the bow slipped and he shot off the Ender Pearl. After a moment, his body suddenly disappeared and reappeared on the rock wall where he’d shot the chicken, and Geoff winced as the unconscious archer fell down the slope until coming to a limp stop at the bottom.

“That did not go well,” Ryan said, putting a hand on his hip.

“I didn’t make him bleed, though,” Jack said, looking at his rock. “So, I guess it could have gone worse.”

“Not likely,” Geoff said, walking up to the archer’s unconscious form and examining it quickly, right as Ray was finally making his way out of the woods with several arrows in hand. “Nothing looks broken, but he’s got some red spots. You didn’t make him bleed, Jack, but that Ender Pearl and that fall certainly did. Come on, we gotta get him somewhere and treat him. Grab his things.”

They put out his fire and tossed the chicken, hoping some animals would eat it, then collected his things and they took off. Ryan had placed a temporary spell on him to make him lighter, but even with the reduced weight, he was still quite a burden. Geoff had taken him first, carrying him like a bride for about twenty minutes, before he passed him off to Jack, claiming he could no longer feel his arms. Jack took him for most of the rest of the way back, but for the last ten minutes, Ray carried him, slung across his back like Jack’s pack. When they finally returned to their hideout, Ryan took away his various weapons and locked them in a cupboard.

“He is not happy with us, and he’ll probably try and attack us. Better he not have the things that cause damage around him. When he comes to, we’ll calmly explain everything to him.”

Carefully, they took off all his leather and unneeded clothing, Jack bringing out some bandages, since they could not force feed him a potion. The archer laid there on a cot with a pair of thin trousers while they set to work cleaning his clothes and his wounds. Among the various cuts on his body, he’d also gotten a black eye, which Geoff thought had come from the fall on the rocks.

When he was all taken care of, they redressed him and let him sleep. Jack, Ray, and Ryan went about their business as usual, like nothing had changed, but Geoff found himself poking through the archer’s things.

“Look at this,” he said, carefully handling the pouch the archer had. “I have never seen so many Ender Pearls in my life. Not even the shops that carry these had this many. Where on earth did he get them all?”

“Who knows? Perhaps he’s a thief of some kind,” Ryan said, thumbing through a spellbook.

“I don’t know. But, man, all these Ender Pearls.”

Geoff put the pouch aside and sorted through everything else. “And this! Creeper skin. How on earth did he get this?”

“It may seem a little far-fetched, but maybe he, I don’t know, killed one?” Ryan replied, raising an eyebrow at Geoff.

“This just doesn’t make any sense. And this! Look! Look at these little bombs he has in this little leather pack here on his belt!”

“Geoff, what on earth are you so obsessive about? So, he has a bunch of oddities on him. Big deal. He’s got no more strange things than Ray does.”

“I know, but,” Geoff looked over at the archer. “I just... something about him is so familiar. I feel like I have to know everything about him. Is that weird?”

“Kind of, yes.”

Geoff sighed and placed the weaponry back into the cupboard, locking it. After a moment, he went to another cupboard and pulled out a clear bottle of whiskey, pulling out the cork and taking a long swill.

“That bottle’s yours, now,” Ryan said, almost irritably.

“Don’t mind if I do,” Geoff said, walking off towards his room, suddenly in a funk.

They took turns watching over the archer, making sure he didn’t wake up alone and start panicking. They all agreed he would probably start panicking anyway, but it would be best if there was someone there to explain it all to him.

Geoff was on duty when the archer finally awoke. He was sitting on a chair at the foot of the bed, idly reading a book, a glass of wine on a nearby table (he had cleaned out the whiskey and there was no other alcohol), when the still body of the archer started to shift about. Geoff looked up from his book, waiting patiently. With a groan, the archer sat up on his elbows, slowly sitting up so he was hunched over his knees, running a hand through his bird’s nest hair. After a moment, he paused and looked up, his eyes wide.

“Sleep well?” Geoff asked, taking a drink of wine.

Eyes still wide, the archer reached down to his thigh, groping for the dagger that was locked in the cupboard. Geoff looked down at his hand, then up at his face.

“Yeah, nothing there.”

Geoff could not shake the feeling of familiarity with the archer. He was certain they’d met before, but had no idea where. “Look, you’re probably freaking out, right?”

“Let me go,” the archer said forcefully, scooting back as far away from Geoff as he could. “I don’t want to have to hurt you.”

“Oh, stop it, no one’s going to hurt anyone here. You have no weapons, I have no weapons, I am not here to hurt you.”

“Then let me go!”

Geoff scratched his beard. “Interesting accent you have. Are you not from Tex?”

“That’s none of your business. Let me go!”

“You know, the more you shout that at me, the less I want to let you go. Not that we’re holding you hostage, mind you. But, you know.”

The archer did not relax. “What do you want with me?”

“We’ll get to that,” Geoff said, tossing his book on the table and picking up a small bottle of blue liquid. “First thing’s first: drink this. Your Ender Pearl did a number on you, especially since you shot it at a wall.”

“I was not aiming for the wall. I’m not drinking anything you give me.”

“You need to not have so many trust issues. Come on, look. It’s a healing potion. Just drink the damn thing.”

Geoff tossed the bottle toward the archer. “Warning you now, if you drink it, it’s going to hurt like a whore. But it’ll fix you right up in no time. And we have… well, we have wine if you need it.”

It took the archer a good minute to finally pick up the bottle and pull out the cork. The look in his eyes showed that he couldn’t believe he was doing this, and he tossed back the potion. Immediately, he curled up and let out a sound that was reminiscent of the hiss of a creeper, going limp after a few moments. Geoff stood up and walked over with his wine, putting it in the archer’s hand.

“Drink, it’ll make you feel better. Funny, though, that black eye you have is still holding on. Just barely, but it’s there.”

The archer took a drink. “You wouldn’t believe how hard an Enderman hits. I thought I’d go blind.”

Geoff was quiet for a moment. “You got punched by an Enderman?”

“I didn’t mean to look it in the eye, but I did, and it sort of… didn’t take kindly to me.”

The archer finished off the wine and ran a hand through his messy hair again. Geoff stuck out a hand. “Name’s Geoff Ramsey. Ex-soldier from Achievement City.”

The archer refused to take Geoff’s hand and shake it. “Gavin Free.”

“Got no affiliations? Just a lone archer, traveling about the woods of Tex?”

Gavin crossed his arms. “I am a member of the highly elite society of archers known as Creechers.”

Geoff nodded, impressed. “Always thought Creechers were just a rumor. You really are one? You can kill a creeper with one arrow?”

“Let me go and maybe I’ll show you,” Gavin threatened, glaring.

“Man, you have got some serious anger issues towards us. Listen: we just want you to relax long enough to propose something to you. And if you disagree… well, then we’ll have to persuade you, because I think this is one of those stupid, fated, written in the stars type deal.”

Gavin raised an eyebrow, looking thoroughly unconvinced. “I make it a point to not have any sort of alliance with an Achiever, ex or not. So whatever your offer is, I decline it. No amount of persuasion will change my mind. Now, let me go.”

“You’ve gotta be from a border town. Your accent is eastern, but it’s not thick enough to actually be from another country. You from Oxbow? Or… what’s that other one, the big one… Lons?”

Gavin stayed completely silent. Geoff waited, then nodded. “Alright, good talk. Learned a lot. So, uh, you can chill here. Help yourself to anything. Just, try not to waste our supplies. We gotta keep it rationed. Someone will be in to check on you in a while.”

And with that, Geoff exited the little room, leaving Gavin by himself to scowl.

* * *

“My Lady?”

Griffon looked up from her table, her hair pulled up tightly. “Yes, Barbara?”

Barbara inclined her head. “His Majesty requests an audience.”

“Tell him I am otherwise inconvenienced. Indecent, even,” Griffon said, turning back to her project.

“Well, My Lady, it’s just—”

“You certainly don’t look indecent.”

Griffon jerked; the small knife she held in her hands followed the motion and sliced a line on the heel of her palm. Apologetically, Barbara shrugged, unable to say what she wanted around Joel. As he stepped into the room, Griffon tried to stem the flow of blood before any of it stained the wood she was working with.

“I apologize. I didn’t mean to make you injure yourself,” Joel stated, walking towards Griffon. She shook her head.

“It isn’t your fault. Barbara, fetch me something to clean this with, and a fresh bandage.”

“Yes, My Lady,” Barbara said, backing out of the room quickly. Joel stood with his hands behind his back as Griffon held the rag tightly against her hand.

“You ought to elevate that. Helps it stop bleeding a bit faster,” Joel said, nodding his head towards her hands.

“I’ll be fine. Thank you, Barbara,” Griffon said as Barbara rushed in with a few bandages and an ointment for healing.

“Leave us, maid,” Joel said firmly.

Taking a moment to pause, Barbara bowed. “Yes, Your Highness.”

Griffon glowered and prepared the bandages as Barbara exited the room. “That was unnecessary. Barbara is completely trustworthy.”

“What makes you think I’m going to do anything that needs to be kept a secret? Here, let me help.”

Griffon held her hands away from Joel. “I can manage on my own, thank you.”

“Won’t you permit a man to help a damsel in distress?”

Sighing and trying hard not to roll her eyes, Griffon held her hands out for Joel. Carefully, he spread ointment over her cut and gently wrapped it in bandages. “You know, Griffon, you could avoid these injuries if you did not do such masculine things.”

Griffon raised her eyebrow. “I seek to make art wherever it presents itself. Because I choose to do it with wood does not make the act a masculine one.”

“But how easily you hurt yourself. Why not create art with a brush? It’s so much safer.”

“It was you who caused me to injure myself, Majesty. Had you properly announced yourself, I’d have been unharmed.”

Griffon gasped quietly when Joel tied the bandage, pressing his thumb into her wound. He held it there a moment, then released her. “My apologies. I was careless.”

“You are forgiven,” Griffon said stiffly, standing from her seat and brushing the sawdust from her dress. She turned to move; Joel caught her and brought her back, looking towards her midriff. She was about to be offended until Joel started speaking.

“That is an interesting pendant. Where did you come by it?”

“I… found it lovely, so I purchased it in the market.”

Joel stared at it for a long moment, then looked back at Griffon, releasing his hold on her wrist. “I do apologize for my intrusion, My Lady. In the time I’ve been here, I have insulted you and injured you. Perhaps my being here was not meant at this moment.”

Griffon remained silent as Joel left the room as quickly as he’d entered it. After a moment, Barbara reentered, looking a little confused.

“Did he want anything, My Lady? You look upset.”

Griffon looked down at the bandage on her hand. “He did.”

“What was it?”

“That’s what worries me. I have no idea.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oooh Gavin's got a chip on his shoulder, doesn't he?
> 
> I hope everyone's enjoying this so far!


	4. III

“That’s not gonna work.”

Gavin jerked and looked over his shoulder quickly, his green eyes wide. Ryan was standing in the doorway of his room with his arms crossed, looking mildly bemused. Gavin had been trying to open the cabinet where they had put his things, and it refused to open.

“The Achiever told me I wasn’t being held here against my will. If that’s the case, then why do I feel like I will only leave here under pain of death?”

“Jeez, dramatic. We’re not going to kill you.”

“Then give me my things, mage, and let me go!”

“My name’s Ryan Haywood, lovely to meet you. And we can’t let you go. We have no intention of hurting you, but you clearly have every intention of hurting us.”

Gavin looked sheepish. “I can’t stay here. Let me go, with all of my things, and I swear on my bow that I won’t hurt any of you. Not even that pitiable Rose Red.”

Ryan laughed. “That was some lovely handiwork you did to Ray. How’d you manage to cover him in soup?”

“I’ve got pretty good aim.” Gavin sneered. “Sniveling Rosy, thinking he could condescend to me because I excel in one weapon instead of choosing mediocrity in a multitude of weapons.”

“You’ve certainly got a nasty grudge against Ray. What on earth did he do to you?”

“No doubt you’ve been informed that I’m a Creecher,” Gavin said, turning and leaning against the cabinet. “That soldier seems like he can’t keep a secret to save his life.”

“Geoff did tell us, yes. But he can keep a secret, when it’s worth keeping. So a Creecher, huh? I didn’t know groups of assassins hated each other.”

“Creechers are not assassins,” Gavin said hotly, glaring. When Ryan raised an eyebrow, he relaxed and just looked irritated. “Whether we choose to show ourselves as weapons-for-hire is a personal choice. We are not indoctrinated to kill for money.”

Ryan laced his fingers together. “Then what is being a Creecher?”

Gavin stared at Ryan, completely silent. After a moment, Ryan snorted. “You are a chatterbox, aren’t you? Look, we all need to talk to you about something. Mind coming with me?”

“I could tell you I’d rather let a creeper kill me, but you probably wouldn’t listen,” Gavin said, standing up and following Ryan out of the room begrudgingly.

The room that Gavin was in seemed to be the only separate room in the hideout. The main part was vast, with a few beds set around the walls, with an area for making food one on side, and a large case for the various weapons they had. In the middle was a large table, scattered with various items. They all took a seat around it, then gestured for Gavin to sit at the empty seat. He did, crossing his arms.

“Nice to see you joining the talented, Creecher,” Ray said smugly, smiling.

“Nice to see you talking so big when I haven’t pinned you to a tree, Rosy,” Gavin snapped back, glaring. Geoff made no effort to hide the snort that escaped him.

“Come on, guys, this is serious. So, Gavin, we’ve all been introduced,” Jack said, looking oddly fatherly.

“Is that what you called that?”

Jack nodded. “And, well, we have something to ask of you.”

“Yes, you are all idiots.”

Geoff snorted again. “I should be offended, but that was pretty quick. No, we actually have something important to ask you.”

“More than a year ago, Lord Joel Heyman overthrew King Matt Hullum and usurped his crown, declaring himself king. In that time, the kingdom has fallen into a state of chaos,” Ryan said, his arms crossed over his chest authoritatively.

“We have made it our mission to bring an uprising to end the tyranny that Joel has spread across the land, freeing its inhabitants from the slaughter and inhumanity. And, well… we think you’re supposed to join us,” Geoff said shrugging.

Gavin looked down at the table. Geoff thought the black eye he sported looked darker when he looked down his nose. After a long moment, he leaned back in his chair.

“Let me get this straight. You want me to risk my life to overthrow some king I have not been affected by because all of you think he’s crap and expect me to willingly join in this crusade you kidnapped me into? Have you any idea where this old king is? If you do, is he going to be the king again? Or are you going to instate someone else?”

There was silence around the table. Gavin leaned on the table. “Even if I believed in this cause, which I sincerely do not, I could never follow you. You have no plans. You have the ideology of children running to defeat the big bad monsters. What, you think you stand menacingly in front of this Joel, you’ll scare him into surrendering, then everything will go back in order? Matt will appear out of nowhere and take his place and everything will be alright like it is in the fairy tales? Your methods are insane and I’ll have no part in them. This is not my fight and I’m not about to condemn myself to death to be a part of it.”

“You could be so selfish?” Ray said after a long pause.

“I don’t see how my sense of self-preservation makes me selfish. You just wait, Rosy. You’ve picked a fool’s fight. That flashy parkour and dual wielding isn’t going to mean a bloody thing when you’ve got your neck pressed to a stone chopping block.”

“This is for our country!” Jack said, trying to appeal to Gavin’s sense of loyalty. “The land we call home!”

“The land you call home,” Gavin said fiercely. He stood up roughly. “Unlock the cupboard, give me my things. I’ve given you my answer, now let me leave.”

“Let’s not be too hasty,” Ryan said, holding his hands up.

With a sneer, Gavin turned on his heel and went back into the room. The door slammed heavily, shaking the entire building. Geoff rubbed his beard casually, looking around.

“Well, that went well.”

* * *

“You seem promising. I’d be delighted to have you here as my royal artist.”

Joel grinned at the youth that stood before him, dressed darkly, looking very shy. He nodded and bowed his head. “It honors me that you would think so highly of me. I am but a humble artist.”

“Don’t be so modest. Having you here as the artist of the court is just what this place needs. Your flare shall liven up the place greatly. Welcome to Achievement City, Monty Oum.”

The painter, Monty, looked sheepish as Joel praised his work. He hadn’t expected to be accepted so well, and had come looking for work as a long shot hope, but Joel took to him very well. The experience was humbling.

“Now, I think we should set those talented hands of yours to work!”

Monty looked up excitedly, but was startled to see a man in dark, long robes walking up to Joel’s throne. He bent and whispered something in Joel’s ear, and suddenly Joel looked very serious.

“I apologize, dear painter. We’ll have to set you with a task later; my attention is needed elsewhere. You, maiden!”

A blonde woman who had been standing quietly next to the wall looked up. “Yes, Highness?”

“Show our new artist here to where he shall be staying. Off with you, go on!”

Joel swept out of the room as the girl ducked her head and walked over to Monty. “This way, sir.”

Monty felt very odd being referred to as sir, and when they too exited the room, he spoke. “I… there’s no need to address me so formally. I’m just a painter. Monty will work just fine.”

“I’m afraid I must call everyone with an honorific. I’m not permitted to do otherwise in company.”

Monty frowned. “I don’t prefer to be called anything like that. But if you’re not allowed to call me anything else… feel free to call me Monty when no one else is around. I don’t want you to think of me as any better.”

The woman smiled. “Thank you. I have seen a few things you’ve done that you presented as why you should be the court painter. I admire your work.”

“An eye for art, huh? Are you an artist yourself?”

“I’ve played with some very simple things. I’m not so much an artist as a pitiful amateur.”

Monty frowned again. “Now, don’t be hard on yourself. Everyone must start somewhere! Even the best hunter was once a man helplessly wielding a bow and arrow. Why should an artist be any different?”

The woman blushed. “You’re very kind.”

“What is your name, fellow artist?”

“Courtney. Courtney Crawford,” the woman said, looking up at Monty with just the smallest hint of sheepishness.

“Well, Courtney, my dear, you simply must show me what you can do one day. If you are a servant, be sure to finish your chores before you come to me. I’d hate to get you in trouble because of my own selfishness. But promise me you will visit me often.”

“I’ll make sure I clean your quarters often,” Courtney said cheerfully, opening a door. “The artists and poets reside here. You should have many things and people to keep you entertained. Should you need anything, the handles here by the door are connected to bells. Someone should be with you if you need anything.”

She bowed lightly, and he reached out to lightly touch her chin. “Remember your promise, Courtney. I’ll be waiting for you to show me what you can do.”

“I’ll do the best I can, Monty.”

She bowed again and left him. Monty entered the room and closed the door, then was very surprised by the sight that met him.

The room was scattered with papers. Things were as messy as Monty could possibly imagine they could be, and sat at a table were two men. The dark-haired one had a quill and paper in his hands. The light-haired one had a stringed instrument and his feet on the table.

“So we have it then?” the light-haired one said, plucking a string on his instrument.

“I believe so!” the dark-haired one said, holding up his piece of paper grandly. “Said sailors floating oceans bold!”

“The sights were so grand to behold!” the light-haired one continued, strumming.

“Asked the grandest sight.”

“Sailors with delight.”

The light-haired and the dark-haired both raised a wine goblet and shouted the last line to the limerick, “Said, ‘spread legs of Mary Berwold!’”

They laughed and clinked their goblets, drinking deeply. Monty chuckled, getting the attention of the two men.

“You must be our painter!” the dark-haired one said, gesturing his wine goblet at Monty. “Welcome to our ranks, good sir. I am Miles Luna, poet of the court.”

“And I am Kerry Shawcross, poet and bard,” the light-haired one said.

“Monty Oum,” Monty replied, stepping forward.

“Lovely to meet you, Monty. Tell us, friend, have you any hand at writing a saucy limerick here and there?” Miles asked, picking up his paper again.

“I can’t say I’m a wordsmith at all. My talent is with a brush.”

“Well, we can certainly change that,” Kerry said, pouring wine into a free goblet for Monty. “Drink, and we’ll be saucing it all night.”

“Grace and poise did she sadly lack,” Miles began, raising his goblet.

“Poor Tara of quiet Berdack.”

“Men couldn’t care less.”

“Stepped onto her dress.”

Again, they gestured their wine goblets together gaily, laughing and shouting the last line of the limerick together. “Just so she would fall on her back!”

Monty snorted and shook his head. “Being with you two is going to be quite an adventure.”

* * *

Joel followed the man in the robes down several halls and a set of stairs until they were well out of sight and earshot. The man in the robes waved his hands at a door, which glowed bright blue for a moment, then went back to normal. The man pushed open the door and let Joel in ahead of him, locking it after they entered.

“What news is there, Gus?” Joel said, holding his hands behind his back.

Gus Sorola, Joel’s trusted mage, walked over to a silver bowl filled with water. He stared down into it, then sighed. “It is what you suspected. It’s him, causing the blurriness.”

“I assumed no one else could do it. Is he acting alone?”

“No,” Gus said, waving a hand over the water. “They seem to be gathering a following. They’re still waiting for one more. Then, they will be the unit they need to start their plans. If they have any at this point.”

“So they’re just a ragtag group at this point. Not a real threat.”

“Not at the moment, no. Nothing I’ve seen so far is of interest, though they do have an assassin. He seems to bear a grudge, but I can’t see what it is.”

“What are his level of skills?”

“I can’t see them very clearly. The mage on their side is keeping any intruding eyes out almost perfectly. At this level, he may be the only thing we have to worry about.”

Joel thought about the information he was being presented, rubbing his chin. After a moment’s thought, he looked back at Gus. “Is everything still well on the inside? I’m not being double-crossed?”

“Nothing at all I see. You still have loyalty. Or fear, at the very least. No one dares cross you on the inside. Just this foolhardy group on the outside.”

“Excellent. Now—”

Joel and Gus looked up quickly as the door opened. In walked a young woman in a black hood, her arms full of empty bottles. She looked up and jumped, immediately ducking her head again.

“I apologize, Your Highness, I had no idea you were in here. Please excuse my intrusion.”

“Nonsense,” Joel said, sauntering over to the woman. Underneath her black hood, she had a shock of unnaturally auburn hair. “Is this your new apprentice, Gus?”

“Yes.”

“Well, come now, girl, don’t just stand there! Introduce yourself!” Joel said kindly.

The woman managed a small curtsy, despite wearing trousers instead of a skirt. “Lindsay Tuggey of Dells, Your Highness.”

“Dells? Goodness, you are quite a long way from home. A pretty thing, I must say.”

“You are kind, Your Majesty.”

“You must promise me you will come to me if you find Gus here to be a cruel teacher. I shall be sure to put him in his place for you.”

Lindsay smiled. “You’re too kind, Majesty.”

“You look busy, my dear. Come, Gus, we’ll discuss this further outside. Walk with me. It was lovely to finally meet Gus’ protégé. I wish you luck in your work.”

“Thank you, Highness,” Lindsay said, curtsying again. Gus and Joel left the room, and the wood glowed blue again. After a long moment, Lindsay deposited the bottles onto a table and quickly ran over to the bowl of water, peering inside curiously.

“Let’s see here…”

* * *

“Still no convincing you, huh?”

Gavin almost pounded his head on the cabinet while Geoff sat at the table in his room, picking at a roll. “The only reason I’m still here is because you lot won’t give me back my things!”

“Ask nicely,” Geoff said, sticking a piece of the roll into his mouth. “Maybe that will work.”

“Don’t mock me,” Gavin said, trying to shimmy open the cabinet again. It shook but would not move. “Bollocks! What on earth have you done to this?”

“I didn’t do a Goddamn thing. It’s all Ryan. He’s got crazy magic.”

Gavin groaned and shook the cabinet again. Angrily, he went back to his bed and threw himself on it.

“Why don’t you like us, Gavin?”

“Is that a rhetorical question?”

Geoff chuckled. “No, actually. I’m serious. What do you have against us?”

“Besides you ambushing and kidnapping me, then refusing to let me go? A lot of things.”

“Well, fair enough,” Geoff said, tossing the roll onto the plate with the rest of the food he brought in. “Can I ask what you have against me personally?”

“I find you repulsive, hypocritical, and blind.”

Geoff leaned back in his chair. “Hypocritical, that’s a new one. Care to explain why?”

“If you cannot figure out why I think you’re hypocritical, then you’re even dumber than I thought. Chasing this dream of righteous perfection in a monarch, willing to overthrow one, when the one you love so dearly was no better.”

“Now, wait a minute. Matt had his faults, as every king does, but this ruthless slaughter of the people in this nation need to be stopped! Joel is a madman and his reign cannot go on any longer.”

“And there you have it,” Gavin said, sitting up and gesturing grandly at Geoff. “Your hypocrisy.”

“What in that fucking sentence was hypocrisy?”

“That your bloody King Matt was such a kind, peaceful leader, loved all his people! Let me take you back, Geoff, about ten years. I believe you’ll remember this very well. Unfounded rumors in a peaceful border town. Without even bothering to interrogate or investigate, your damn King Matt sent in his soldiers to destroy the town, leaving only elders, women, and children, if any, to live, while the men were slaughtered in the town hall as they had their meetings. The town burned, Geoff, because of a rumor. A lie.”

Something stirred in Geoff’s memory. The images of storming into a peaceful town, and setting the town alight, came to the front of his mind. Gavin was on his feet now, pointing at Geoff.

“Does that ring any bells, Achiever? When I say the town name of Tainford, do you remember anything?”

Geoff definitely remembered now. Tainford, a town more industrious than the others, had been the subject of scandal years before, when a rumor had gone around that they were planning to secede from Tex and join their neighboring nation of Bray, taking their strong industry and large revenue with them, weakening Tex’s economy. He and a battalion of soldiers had been sent to eradicate the leaders who were enacting this plan, and when he and his fellows had arrived, he’d been informed that the plan had been enacted, and they took out the town, in an attempt to warn the country of Bray that they would not take kindly to any more encroaching and breaking of good will.

“You’re condemning me because I was following orders?”

“No. I’m condemning you because you didn’t care! You looked a boy in the eyes and smiled at him while his home burned and you didn’t care!”

It was a cannonball to the stomach to hear those words. Geoff vividly remembered coming across a young boy with soot smeared on his cheek on the outskirts of Tainford; he had wiped the soot off and smiled, trying to give him a morale boost as the boy’s green eyes spilled over with tears. Those same green eyes that had spilled over with tears while looking at him now stared him down, the heat of anger burning his gaze into Geoff’s skin. The memory chilled his blood to ice as it suddenly dawned on him why he thought Gavin was so familiar.

“That… that was you?”

That seemed to be the breaking point. Angrily, Gavin advanced on Geoff and pointed at the door. “Get out! You were stupid then and you are stupid now! Get out, if you won’t let me out!”

Gavin grabbed the goblet of wine Geoff ad brought with him. Quickly, Geoff scrambled out of the room, but not before Gavin took aim and threw the goblet, knocking Geoff in the shoulder with it and spilling wine on everything. Desperately, Geoff closed the door behind him, the sound of a table being overturned violently cutting off as the door slammed shut.

* * *

“Ouch. That is brutal.”

Geoff sighed and strapped on his arm guards. His usual dark eye circles were even darker; he’d barely slept in two days. In that time, Gavin had refused to come out of the room, at least when everyone was awake. When he holed himself up, he made quite a lot of noise, making it no secret he was trying to break open the cabinet and get his things. Geoff had never felt so much guilt in his life; the look in Gavin’s eyes left a burn on his skin that wouldn’t stop stinging.

“I mean, you were just following orders, so he can’t begrudge you. But the way you described it sounds pretty intense,” Ray continued on, concealing his various knives about his person.

“I was an utter prick. He was right about me. I didn’t care. I helped burn a city to the ground and I didn’t care. He probably lost his family, and it’s my fault.”

“Now, you can’t think like that,” Ray said, strapping on his belt. “You have to think that you can atone for what you’ve done. And not live life thinking you’re a prick. You just need to keep going.”

“So you don’t think I’m a prick for what I did?”

Ray smiled and put on his long cape. “I never said that.”

Geoff groaned and rubbed his forehead. “What am I going to do?”

“I wouldn’t worry about it. Right now, we have one more member to recruit. And I know Ryan’s being all cryptic, but I think this one’s gonna work. Easy as pie.”

“Piece of cake?” Geoff tried feebly.

Ray made a face. “Let’s not get disgusting here, shall we? Come on. Put on your chest plate and let’s go.”

They exited their hideout and met Jack and Ryan, who were outside already. Ryan told them they didn’t have to go far, and Jack gave them their direction. Ray led the way, darting through the trees easily. Geoff brought up the rear, the guilt still eating at him. They hadn’t been walking for very long when Ryan pointed.

“Just up there, we’re going to find him there.”

The air was deathly silent as Ray ran ahead, a phantom shadow in the trees. They crept along behind him, then suddenly, Ray was shouting.

“Oh, shit! Shit, shit, spiders!”

Jack pulled out his ax and ran forward, looking determined. The red stone in Ryan’s staff began glowing as he ran after Jack. Out of Geoff’s eyesight, he yelled.

“How in the— Jack, zombie, look out!”

Geoff groaned and drew his sword. “Of all the fucking things…”

When he came in view of the clearing, he wanted to sit on the ground and do little more than pout like a child. Ryan and Jack had double-teamed an approaching zombie, who stumbled when hit but did not falter. On the other side, Ray was darting around and throwing knives, slashing at two spiders with his sword. Geoff decided Ray needed more help, and rushed to his aid; quickly, he spun and smacked one of the large spiders with his shield, sending it careening as Ray took the opportunity to stab his sword through the other spider, pulling out his curved dagger and slicing off its head. The spider went limp as the whitish ooze of its blood seeped out and the other came back for revenge. Geoff drew its attention while Ray sneaked in, using the same tactic to take it out as well. The spider corpses lay still as Ray ran towards Ryan and Jack.

“Both of you get on your knees!” he ordered, gripping his sword tightly. Jack and Ryan hit the ground and Ray used them to propel himself forward, flipping deftly in the air and thrusting his sword deeply into the zombie’s head. He pulled the creature back as he landed, pulling his sword out when it stopped twitching. He almost looked pleased with himself, then he looked behind Geoff.

“Three more spiders are coming.”

Geoff spun on his heel, prepared for the arachnids. The four of them fought off the spiders as another zombie came up. Geoff almost shrieked with frustration as he lunged forward and sliced off the zombie’s head, looking over at Ryan.

“Thanks for leading us to a spawner, Ryan!”

“Don’t you blame this on me!” Ryan shouted back, shooting a spider with a nasty looking shock of energy. From the shadows, Geoff heard a familiar sound that chilled his bones.

“Creeper!” he shouted, but it was too late. The creeper exploded; it was too far to do any damage, but the force sent them all backwards. As they lay there, the forest became quiet, unnaturally so, and they all stood slowly, brushing themselves off.

“What a rush, huh?” Ray joked, trying to lighten their moods.

“Ryan, I thought you said we were going to get a new person if we came out here,” Jack said, readjusting the lenses on his eyes.

A little defensively, Ryan began arguing his point as Geoff slowly stood up, hoping the night was not wasted. With a sigh, he looked up, and froze immediately.

“Well, I don’t know, what do you think, Geoff?” Jack asked, looking over at his comrade. Puzzled, he took a step towards Geoff. “Hey, Geoff!”

“Don’t move,” Geoff said quietly, his eyes opened wide. “Don’t come over here.”

“What’s going on?” Ray asked, looking around.

Ryan gripped his staff nervously. “Geoff?”

“Enderman,” Geoff replied, little more than a whisper. In between two trees stood an imposing black figure, tall, thin, and vaguely harmless looking, with a large chunk of stone in its hands. Geoff had stood and locked eyes with the Enderman, unintentionally, and now stood stock still as a staring match to save his own life commenced. The Enderman looked vaguely curious, but Geoff knew that the moment he took his eyes away from it, it would lunge forward with every intention to attack. Fear coursed through his veins as Geoff kept his gaze locked with the bright purple eyes of the Enderman, and he wondered just how long he could keep his eyes locked on the monster.

“Geoff, we—”

“Get out of here,” Geoff ordered, swallowing hard. “Run, get back to the hideout.”

Ray pulled out a throwing knife and took aim as Jack and Ryan readied themselves. The three of them had no intention of leaving their comrade.

“Geoff, when we say when, look away,” Ray said. The Enderman tilted its head, still looking at Geoff.

“Trust us,” Ryan said, his red stone glowing fiercely.

Geoff steeled his nerves and gripped his sword, hoping they could take out the Enderman before it did too much damage. He was about to take his gaze away when there was a shout and a sword appeared through the inside of the Enderman. It turned its head quickly and Geoff quickly ran forward as the Enderman advanced on the thing that had stabbed it. Walking backwards through the terrain, broadsword held tightly in his hands, was a man, not much older than Ray, who had a fierce look in his eyes and absolutely no armor. Geoff ran forward and sliced at the Enderman with his sword, drawing its attention back. It turned and looked at him again, wasting no time in hoisting the rock it held and bringing it down. It smacked against Geoff’s shield.

The Enderman raised the rock again as Ryan quickly spoke a spell and whipped his staff around. From the end burst a wave of water, fast and pointed right at the Enderman. Without a warning, Geoff hit the ground, knocked over by the water. The water continued on and smacked into the Enderman; it began hissing and it let out a blood-curling screech as its life sapped out. The blast of water ended and the Enderman dissolved into a black dust; in the middle of the dust was a teal Ender pearl. Geoff, soaking wet, walked over to it and picked it up, making a note to give it to Gavin as an attempt at a peace offering.

“I didn’t expect that to be so powerful,” Jack said, looking at the red stone in Ryan’s staff.

“To be completely honest, I wasn’t sure it was going to be water,” Ryan said.

Ray stopped and looked over at the mage. “You used a spell, with Geoff in the way, and you weren’t even convinced it was going to be water?”

“Yep!”

Jack shook his head while Ray stood there, looking like he was trying to do complicated math in his head, baffled by the idea that Ryan was unsure about his spell. Geoff ran a hand through his wet hair and looked around.

“Where was that guy with the broadsword?” he said, looking around. He walked forward, looking around, following the puddles. It didn’t take long before he and the others came across a large hole in the ground; the crater left behind from the earlier creeper explosion. Geoff walked over to the edge and peered inside. At the bottom, looking vaguely annoyed and very stuck was the boy who’d stabbed the Enderman, covered in mud and water.

“Well, hello,” Ryan said smugly, looking down. “Told you. I told you all.”

“Thanks for the help there, friend,” Geoff said, looking down. “Need a hand?”

“Way ahead of you,” Jack said, reaching into his pack. He grabbed a length of rope and threw it down for the boy. He looped it around his wrist and the four of them tugged him out of the mud. The boy was dirty, but he smiled.

“Thanks.” He stuck his hand out. “Michael Jones of Jerz.”

Ryan eyed his hand, which was covered in mud. Michael grinned and took it back. “Sorry.”

“I’m Geoff Ramsey, and this is Jack Pattillo, Ryan Haywood, and Ray Narvaez.”

“The second!” Ray quipped, smiling.

“And we’d be incredibly interested in having you join our little crusade,” Ryan said.

Michael nodded. “Alright.”

Geoff’s eyebrows furrowed. “Just like that?”

“You don’t even know what we want!” Jack added.

Michael shrugged. “So? You guys obviously do something big. Why not be part of that! I’m sure you’ll soon see that I and Mogar will be an excellent addition.”

“Mogar?” Ray asked, tilting his head to the side.

Michael reached over his shoulder and pulled his broadsword from the sheath on his back. “Mogar, the legendary broadsword that has passed through my family for generations, so named for the mighty bear it slay.”

“Have you ever done anything with it?”

Michael looked at the blade; his shoulders fell. “Well, not exactly yet, but—”

“Oh, God,” Geoff said, looking at Ryan. “You have assembled a crack team.”

“Why don’t any of you seem to trust me?”

“Because you just led us to a country kid who has a fancy sword and nothing else!” Jack said, trying to be gentle and firm all at once.

“Hey, I just stabbed an Enderman to help you!” Michael said indignantly.

“And while that was appreciated, it was stupid. Had you ever fought an Enderman before that?” Geoff asked.

“I… well, no.”

Geoff ran a hand down his face. “You are enthusiastic, but inexperienced and young. You can stay with us. I seem to have no choice but to let you stay.”

Without another word, Geoff turned on his heel and began walking away, heading toward their hideout. Jack and Ryan followed, bickering. Michael looked crestfallen as Ray came up to him and threw an arm around his shoulder.

“Don’t worry about them,” Ray said, grinning in encouragement. “They’re all pissy over something or other. I have faith in you, country kid.”

“Thanks. I guess. So, um… what are you guys doing?”

“We’re leading a revolt against the tyranny of King Joel, or something like that.”

“There are four of you.”

Ray started laughing and led Michael along. “Oh, trust me. Keep that up, and you’ll fit in in no time.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh man Geoff and Gavin have some shit to work out between them. Also Miles and Kerry are the funnest to write I don't even know how they can be so easy to write.
> 
> I would like to take this moment to thank my dear friend Julia for being with me from the moment this fic came to life, and for never giving up on me. I love you, sweetie, and thank you for reminding me how words work.


	5. IV

“What are you doing?”

Lindsay jerked and looked up from the silver bowl of water she’d been gazing into. Automatically, she bowed to Gus, the image on the water fading away.

“I apologize, sir. I saw the ease with which you viewed the kingdom and tried to mimic it. I’m afraid I didn’t see much of anything. I hope I didn’t overstep my boundaries by doing so.”

Gus regarded her for a moment, then shrugged. “No harm done. It’s to be expected that you could not look into the water right away. It takes much practice to make anything appear.”

“I hope one day I can gain the skill level you have.”

“I’m sure you will, one day. You know, Lindsay, I have never asked. Why do you dress yourself this way?”

Lindsay looked down at her clothes. “It’s a bit silly of me, but I’ve tried to emulate the look of an Enderman. They are powerful magic beings, and I thought that if I paid homage to them, my magic might be stronger.”

“That’s such a cute, juvenile notion,” Gus said, smiling. “Now, grab that book and a few scrolls of paper. We have something trivial to attend to.”

Lindsay gathered the items. “If I may ask, sir, what are we doing?”

“What the king wants, the king gets. And he wants us to waste our time making magical decorations.”

Lindsay chuckled. “That does seem like a waste of time, doesn’t it?”

Gus led her out of their chamber and walked slowly down the hall. “While we may object to it, we must remember that he is our king, and employs us, in addition to that.”

“But… what about if there was a way to get another king?”

Gus spun on his heel and stared Lindsay down. After a moment, she gulped. “Or not.”

“I won’t have you making any more treacherous remarks. Now hurry up. We have work to do.”

Lindsay shut her mouth and followed Gus quietly, wishing she could be back at the silver bowl.

* * *

Griffon decided that Joel used any excuse he could to show off. Having a new painter in the court was lovely, and it was nice to see a new face, especially one so friendly, but he hardly warranted the huge feast Joel had ordered. She would have done everything in her power not to go, but Joel had sent a dress to her, exquisite in blue silk and gold edging, especially for the occasion. Her sense of decency wouldn’t let her ignore the gift or the invitation, so, begrudgingly, she had Barbara help her into the dress, lacing the whole thing up tight as she placed a matching circlet of gold in her hair. When she was prepared, she told Barbara to seek out a friend and spend the night pleasantly. Barbara curtsied and left her alone, and, with as much poise as she could muster, walked down into the hall where the celebration was being held.

While she held a strong dislike for the man, Griffon could not begrudge Joel his sense of style. The entire hall had been decorated with swirling colors and patterns, art that moved on the scrolls, glittering pieces that seemed to shift as she stared at them. There was plenty of drink and food and plenty of dancing. Off to the side, she saw Joel’s mage and his apprentice standing, graciously accepting compliments on the creativity of the magic decor. Joel sat at the head of the table, looking like a god in colors that matched Griffon’s dress (she saw that coming from miles away) with the new court painter on his right, dressed in red and black and looking a little out of place. Joel’s left was free, and she assumed, from experience, that that seat was hers. She strode over and allowed a servant to pull the chair out for her. Joel smiled at her.

“My Lady, it’s wonderful to see you finally.”

“My pleasure, Your Highness. I’m afraid I haven’t been properly introduced to the reason for our celebration.”

“Then let us remedy that! May I present our new artist, Monty Oum. Monty, this is Lady Griffon O’Connell.”

Griffon smiled and nodded as Monty bowed his head. “It’s an honor to meet you, Monty.”

“I am incredibly humbled, My Lady. I am unworthy of your honor; I am but a simple artist.”

“I shall be the judge of that,” Griffon said pleasantly. “I have an eye for art, and I shall tell you if what you do is good, though I’m sure it’s all excellent to warrant yourself a place here.”

Monty looked sheepish and like he wanted to be swallowed by his coat. Griffon smiled and turned to Joel. “I must thank you, Your Highness, for this lovely dress. I am undeserving of it.”

“No one could be more deserving of something so fine! For once, I thought I’d get you out of your stuffy demeanor and into something much more fitting your station.”

Griffon almost snorted. “I have been called many things, Highness, but never stuffy.”

“There is a first for everything.”

“Indeed, there is. Monty, would you humor a lady and dance with me? I’d love to dance, and you seem like you’re enjoying the music.”

Monty looked over at Joel, like he was terrified that Joel would slit his throat if he tried. Surprisingly, Joel waved a hand. “By all means! Enjoy yourselves! The music is here for a reason.”

Silently, Monty stood from his chair and walked around Joel, pulling Griffon’s chair out for her. He bowed and held a hand out and she took it, allowing herself to be led where everyone was dancing. They matched their dance with everyone around them, keeping time, and Griffon was pleasantly surprised to find that Monty was a fantastic dancer. He was light on his feet and liked to spin Griffon, which made her smile. This set him more at ease than sitting there next to Joel had.

“So, Monty, may I inquire as to where in Tex you hail from?” Griffon said, linking hands with Monty and walking in a circle with him.

Monty shrugged as they spun and started turning the other way. “Here and there. I’ve traveled quite a lot. I haven’t truly belonged anywhere in years. And to be completely honest, I believe the place I was born now stands vacant. Emptied, by His Majesty.” 

Griffon frowned. “I’m afraid His Majesty is rather good at that. You’d think you’d refuse to come here, knowing that.”

Monty spun Griffon once. “I haven’t called that village home in many years. And even if I bore him ill will, I figured that here, under his jurisdiction, is safer than being out there, where he is unbound by decency.”

“You’re a smart man, Monty. You may survive us yet.”

Monty looked sheepish once again and he bowed deeply to Griffon when the song ended. She curtsied to match him, then glanced a man coming up behind Monty.

“Excuse me, sir, may I be so kind as to dance with the lady next?”

“You may,” Monty said happily, gesturing at Griffon.

She looked up as Monty bowed his head and left the floor; her face split into a huge grin. “Sir Michael Burns, I am glad to see you’ve graced one of the king’s parties with your presence.”

“Would I miss an evening where I can see you dressed so elegantly?”

They regarded each other for another moment, then she jumped up into his arms and wrapped him in a hug. “Oh, Burnie, it’s so wonderful to see you.”

Like he’d done a million times, he lifted Griffon off her feet. “Likewise. Let me tell you, getting to be a knight is hard, and then the first few months are brutal, but once you survive that, it’s smooth sailing.”

“I’m glad to see you obtained your goal,” Griffon said, placing her hand on Burnie’s. “Shall we dance?”

“I’ll lead,” Burnie replied, stepping in time with the music.

Burnie was one of the soldiers Griffon could not only tolerate, but loved dearly. He’d been in the same battalion as Geoff, and encouraged them both to see each other, even covering for Geoff if he sneaked out. He’d garnered the nickname Burnie after three other soldiers named Michael had joined their battalion, and it was easier to keep them straight. He’d gained his knighthood not three months after Geoff had deserted.

And, out of loyalty to friendship, Burnie remained a secret tie on the inside, the person that risked his life to send messages to Geoff whenever he could.

“I am very happy to see you, Burnie, truly. Joel’s become insufferable. I don’t know how much longer I can stand it. I feel like he’s plotting something.”

“Let me tell you, Griffon. He’s always plotting something. He schemes every moment of every day. You just happen to be seeing it up close.”

Griffon sighed and let Burnie spin her, the gold on her dress shining. “I’m constantly on edge. I never know if he’s going to send me off in some horrible marriage alliance, or if he’s got something worse planned for me.”

“Does he have any idea? About… you know?”

“I couldn’t tell you. He tries to make it seem like he does, but I don’t know if he actually does. I’ve certainly never let on.”

Burnie glanced down at her. “You still wear that piece of red stone.”

“Plenty of people in court wear red stone. Mine doesn’t stand out at all.”

“True. But still, be on your toes.”

Griffon switched hands and they began moving in another direction. “Burnie? Have you… have you heard anything?”

Burnie smiled. “As a matter of fact, I received word from one of the outposts just yesterday.”

Word from the outposts was Burnie’s code for Griffon that he’d received a message from Geoff. Eavesdroppers would assume that Burnie, as a knight, would just be talking about the soldiers he was in charge of, and they were none the wiser. Griffon’s hand tightened on Burnie’s.

“What did they say?”

“The usual drivel, but their numbers have grown and they are getting stronger. It shouldn’t be long before they return from their mission.”

Griffon tried to smile, but her eyes showed the truth. “That… is wonderful news!”

Burnie grinned and leaned down to whisper in her ear. “I also received word that his heart still beats madly for you.”

The reassurance, the very small little reassurance that he still loved her, was more than enough. Griffon’s spirits soared. “Thank you so much, Burnie. You risk so much to help a simple girl with the matters of her heart.”

“Hey, you’re practically my family!” The song ended, and Burnie bowed low to her, taking her hand and pressing a kiss to the back of it. “Any risk is worth it to see this through.”

Griffon curtsied to him, giving him one last word of thanks before she returned back to the table. She pointedly ignored Joel and was about to start a conversation with Monty, but the two poets, Kerry and Miles, ran up and urged Monty to come with them, for some reason or another. Monty let himself be dragged away, confused as Kerry and Miles laughed. Griffon was alone with Joel, and she hoped that he would keep his silence.

“You seemed to have fun out there,” Joel commented casually.

Griffon picked up her silverware. “I do enjoy dancing.”

Joel watched her as she slowly began eating her food, making no eye contact with him. “Are you eating so you won’t have to talk to me?”

“I’m not sure if you’re aware of this, Your Highness, but most people eat when they are hungry. Dancing is frightfully exhausting, and I’ve grown quite an appetite.”

“Can you not spare me one conversation?”

“Oh, now, would His Highness really make me look uncivilized by having me talk and eat at the same time?”

Joel smiled and bowed his head. “Apologies, then. Please, eat all you’d like. I won’t let my selfishness stop you.”

Griffon smiled and bowed her head in return, but something about Joel’s tone set her on edge and soured her stomach. She forced herself to eat, despite the feeling, and hoped someone else would come up and take her away when she was done.

* * *

“It’s a bit funny. I don’t like this outfit.”

Jack chuckled. “Where better to hide than in plain sight? I think it suits you, anyway.”

Ray wrinkled his nose and tugged at the plain brown tunic Jack had given him to wear. “None of this is okay. I feel so wrong. I’m a Rose Red, damn it, I should dress like it.”

“I’m pretty sure you managed to hide at least seven knives up each sleeve.”

“Six in each boot, too.”

Jack chuckled again as they strode through the small town half a mile from their hideout. In a perfect situation, they could spontaneously generate their supplies, but since they could not, they had to go off towards the town to buy things. Before, Jack had gone alone, but Ray made it no secret that he got stir-crazy after about a day of being inside, so Jack dressed him to be as inconspicuous as possible, and they traveled to the town alone. Jack liked the time spent. He enjoyed being out in the sunshine, and he liked hearing the stories he could coax out of Ray.

“Why has no one gotten suspicious of you?” Ray asked, running ahead slightly and grabbing a tree branch, swinging himself forward and landing deftly on his feet. Jack smiled.

“Why would they be suspicious of me?”

“I don’t know. Mysterious builder guy, comes into town once a week to get supplies for like twelve people, then leaves, no sign of him, for another week?”

“There are plenty of little houses in the forests where families live, and the town pays no mind to me when a handful of other people do the same thing.”

Ray hummed. “Interesting. Do you hit up a few places?”

“Only if I need something specific. If Ryan needs something to make some potions, or if Geoff needs something to fix something in his armor. Otherwise, I just go to the general store.”

They entered the town and Jack headed them right for the general store, which bore the name _Elia’s Everythings_. He pushed open the door, which made a little bell jingle his arrival. A young woman, with a beauty mark and tendrils of hair that fell out of her braid and around her face, looked up from the shelf she was stocking. She smiled widely.

“Fancy seeing you here, stranger,” she said genially, brushing her hands on the apron she wore over her dress.

“I appear from time to time,” Jack replied with a smile.

“You know what to do. Gather it up, and then come to me to pay.”

Ray, it seemed, was to be Jack’s go-between. Jack picked out what he needed, and Ray ran them over the counter. The girl, pretty, with expressive eyes, kept a strict tally of what was being presented to her. Ray assumed that they’d not have enough money for what they were getting, so he tried to surreptitiously slide a few things into his shirt. The shopkeeper, however, had the eyes of a hawk.

“And that’s ten of those,” she said offhandedly, making a mark on her paper. “And by the way, sir, I trust my bearded friend here, and I’m going to give you the benefit of the doubt, because you’re with him. So, if you put on the counter what you’re trying to steal from me, I’ll not overcharge you, or call some soldiers to have you arrested.”

Ray turned bright red as he set the few items he’d nicked onto the counter as Jack laughed. “Not so stealthy, huh? Or perhaps you were just trying to get the girl to notice you?”

The shopkeeper leaned on the counter as Ray tried not to turn even darker red. “I did certainly notice him, though not in the way I think you’re talking.”

Ray kept to himself after that, embarrassed beyond belief that a simple shop owner had caught him, a Rose Red, stealing things. It was a shame he was going to take to his grave.

When Jack had picked all of his supplies, the shopkeeper tallied it up. “You’re getting a bit more this week. Something special happen?”

“Not particularly,” Jack said, pulling out a coin purse. “We’ve just find we burn through them faster than we should. I figured getting more would help that.”

The shopkeeper tapped her pen against the paper. “Tell you what. I’m rather fond of you, stranger. I’ll give you the lot, and I’ll throw in an extra loaf of bread, and charge you no more than I charged you last week.”

Jack frowned. “Now, I could never take such an offer, not when my comrade here tried to steal from you!”

Ray blushed again and looked at his feet. Oh, the shame. But the shopkeeper smiled and waved a hand. “Trust me, I make more than enough revenue to cover it. Now, take your things, no more protesting.”

Ray packed his and Jack’s bags as Jack handed over the right amount of money. “You’re a saint.”

“No, I’m merely good to my repeat customers. I’ll see you next week, stranger,” the shopkeeper said, waving them out the door.

Ray hitched his bag over his shoulder as he walked with Jack back out of the town. “Why don’t you use each other’s names?”

“Because we don’t know each other’s names.”

“Really?”

“You’ll find, Ray, that in a situation like ours, where we’re sort of committing treason, it’s best not to let too many people know your name. We maintain pleasantries without them, and it’s fine.”

Ray smirked and elbowed his comrade. “But maybe you want to learn her name, huh? Huh?”

Jack looked at Ray, with a shit-eating grin plastered on his face, and kept a straight composure. “I want what you’re suggesting about as much as you want to be caught stealing something again.”

Ray didn’t say another word the whole way back to their hideout. They made their way in, and found an interesting sight upon entry. Sitting at the table, with his hands over his ears and an exasperated look on his face, was Ryan, the red stone in his staff glowing, though it was two feet away. A vein throbbed gently in his forehead. Ten feet away was Michael and Geoff, very clearly at odds with each other.

“Whatever imaginary legend you think you come from is irrelevant, kid! We depend on actual skill, and though you may think you can wave that sword around like a pro, you don’t have a Goddamn clue what you’re doing! If you keep up with this mindset that you’re some hero, destined to do something great, you’re going to get yourself and us killed!”

“And how exactly am I going to prove to you that I do know what I’m doing? You won’t even give me the chance! You just assume I’m some stupid kid that is playing warrior! I’m not!”

Ryan breathed in deeply through his nose; his hands started to shake when the shouting got louder. Jack sighed and handed his pack to Ray.

“Hold this, please.”

Ray took the pack as Jack walked over between Michael and Geoff. Furiously, Geoff warned Jack not to get involved; ignoring his friend completely, Jack placed a hand on a shoulder each and pushed them away from each other.

“Fighting isn’t going to do any good! I don’t care what problem you have with each other; you need to deal with it right now or so help me I’m building you each a cage and keeping you in it! Divided is not the way we need to go into this.”

Michael shrugged off Jack’s hand and stomped off. “Maybe when he pulls his head out of his ass and realizes just how badly he’s going to need me when the time comes, then we won’t be so divided!”

“Oh, you little son of a bitch!” Geoff yelled, fighting against Jack’s hold. “Let me go!”

Michael pointedly ignored him and went straight for the door that Gavin lived behind. Ray had half a mind to stop him, but decided against it once the door slammed closed. After a moment of silence, Ryan let his head slam onto the table. Geoff pointed at him.

“This is your fault!”

“No, I’m pretty sure it’s yours!” Ryan replied testily.

“Geoff, come on, relax a little. I got some alcohol in town, go get some and relax.”

“Man, being with you guys is never boring,” Ray chuckled, dropping both bags and stretching. “I’m going to go change, if you’ll excuse me.”

* * *

Gavin looked up sharply when his door slammed. Whenever they came into his little room, they usually were polite about it. This person, a new person, had just barged in like it was no big deal. And he looked angry.

“Who are you?” he asked tensely, looking around for anything he could use as a weapon if the time came down to it. The man looked up, his eyes wide.

“Holy shit. There’s another one of you?”

“Don’t you lump me in with them!” Gavin replied hotly, looking outright offended.

“Let me guess, you don’t have anything else to offer the Achiever and he’s locked you away in embarrassment?”

Gavin regarded him for a moment. “You actually want to be here.”

“Well, yeah! But the stupid prick doesn’t want anything to do with me! Oh, if I could just take my sword…”

Gavin let out a short bark of laughter, sardonic and annoyed. “Well, isn’t that just bloody ironic! You want to be here, but they would rather be rid of you. And they’re trying to do everything in their power to keep me around, and I’m trying to leg it out of here!”

The man looked suddenly very concerned. “You’re a hostage?”

“Well,” Gavin said, crossing his arms. “Yes and no. I could leave if I wanted, but they’ve locked my things in this cupboard.”

“They certainly have a funny way of going about building a revolution, don’t they?”

Gavin snorted. “They do, indeed.”

After a moment, the man walked forward, extending a hand. “I’m Michael Jones, of Jerz.”

Gavin shook his hand. “Gavin Free. Once of Tainford. Now, I wander.”

“Would you mind if I sat in for a little? I’m… a little more than irritated, and you seem to be the only sane one around here.”

“I don’t see why not. Tell the truth, it’s been a bit boring, camping in here by myself. Some normal company might be nice.”

They sat at the table and talked about nothing in particular, trading tales of this and that and getting to know each other a little better. Both happily expressed their distaste for the situation, for different reasons, and Michael was flabbergasted when Gavin confided in him the story of his childhood.

“They burned the whole thing down? Just like that?”

“A few of the houses still stood, ones that had been on the far outskirts, but mostly, yeah, all gone. That’s part of the reason why I can’t stand the Achiever in there.”

“Geoff?” Michael looked at the door. “Yeah, I mean, the guy’s kind of a drunken piece of work, but why hate him for it?”

Gavin sighed heavily and tapped his fingers on the wood of the table, stalling his answer. “He was there. Helped burn it. He came across me, not even old enough to have a beard. I had soot smeared on me, from looking for my family. And he… he lifted his helmet up, gave me a smile, and wiped the soot off my cheek. Told me, ‘Don’t be so glum, it’ll be okay.’ And left. I lost my whole family and all he had to say to me was don’t be so glum. I had no idea anyone could be that heartless.”

Michael was quiet for a moment, then shrugged. “I don’t really see how he did anything wrong.”

Gavin looked up fiercely, his green eyes on fire. “I’m sorry?”

“Relax a second. I’m not saying it was right for them to burn down your town. What am I saying is he and the others were soldiers following orders. They didn’t take it upon themselves to torch Tainford; they were being ordered, and, as soldiers, they had no choice but to do what they did. And what he did? Reaching out to wipe the soot off your cheek, telling you to cheer up? He had to say something to you. As far as I can see, Geoff’s not so good with words. He had to tell you, a kid, something to boost your morale. Maybe he just didn’t know what else to do.”

Gavin crossed his arms defiantly and slumped in his chair. “I suppose it makes sense. It still burns like a spider bite, though.”

“And it has every right to burn you. But maybe you should give him the benefit of the doubt. If you try and build a bridge, maybe it will do well for the both of you.”

“More good to them than me. They’ve got no idea what to do with themselves. They’ve got the endpoint, but not how to get there. It’s rather pathetic, really. None of them have any idea how to plan, what tactics to use, how to play up the strengths of the group. They’ll be dead before they set foot in Achievement City.”

Michael leaned forward on his elbows. “Are you good with tactics?”

Gavin shrugged. “I guess. I can spot a problem and work how to fix it. Their problem is: the only plan they’ve got is the fairytale storm the castle, rescue the princess, try again when you fail. What they don’t seem to get is you cannot just march up to the walls of the city and declare war. Joel’s forces are massive. They would be slaughtered in an instant. They must be stealthy, and quiet about it. Like how Joel was about his uprising, I assume.”

Michael hummed. “I see now why they want you on their side. You seem to know how to work things out.”

“I doubt they know about any of that. They just saw me shoot a chicken from something like 600 meters.”

“Liar.”

Gavin snorted. “Fine, don’t believe me.”

After that, they slipped into another conversation and began talking, the words flowing effortlessly between them. The hours passed until Michael politely excused himself to sleep. Gavin bid him goodnight and mulled over what Michael had told him, to give Geoff the benefit of the doubt. The memory ached like a broken bone, but Michael had made a valid point, and now Gavin questioned his anger.

He tried to break open the cabinet again, hoping to at least see his things, and, like every other time, it remained resistant, stuck firmly closed. Gavin kicked it and sat down on his bed, frustrated and defeated. He had waved the white flag for the night and was about to sneak out into the night for some fresh air before sleep when the door to his room slammed open. Gavin looked up quickly and was befuddled to see Geoff standing there, stumbling with a nearly empty bottle of whiskey in his hands.

“You!” he said darkly, pointing at Gavin. His skin was pale and he looked sick as he staggered into the room. “I was a different person then!”

“What on earth are you talking about?” Gavin asked, his eyebrows furrowed.

Geoff straightened his back and leaned slightly to the left, catching himself before he fell over. He took another drink from his bottle and wiped his mouth with his sleeve. “I have been just… just destroyed with guilt! I was a different person then, you know? I was just…”

He paused for a moment, wherein he hiccupped and stumbled forward. “I was just a soldier, follow… following orders! I didn’t do it to hurt you personally, and you’re a cocky little prick for thinking I did it out of spite! Well, you know what?”

Gavin stared, wide-eyed, as Geoff drained the bottle and threw it against the wall; it shattered and littered the floor with little sparkling shards of glass. “I am tired of waiting! This isn’t my fault! It happened! Now get fucking over it! And look! To show my sincerity, I got you a gift!”

“What?”

Geoff dug around in his pocket for a moment, then held his hand up. In between his thumb and forefinger was a teal pearl. “This bastard would have ended me. But we got him. And he left us this. And I thought, hey, he uses Ender Pearls, why not give it to him?”

Gavin flinched and closed his eyes as Geoff threw it. When he opened his eyes, he was relieved to see it had landed on his bed and had not shattered. Angrily, Geoff gestured to himself.

“From me to you, Creecher! Now, I have no more guilt! Ha!”

Gavin looked at Geoff like a child looking upon a monster as Geoff stood there for another moment, then nodded to himself and stumbled out of the room, slamming the door behind him. With eyes still wide, Gavin looked at the Ender Pearl Geoff threw at him, picked it up, and turned it over in his hands a few times.

The whole night kept getting stranger and stranger.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I shouldn't be posting this now because I like to be two chapters ahead with my writing but what the hell, you guys deserve it.  
> Thoughts? Responses? How did this chapter make you feel?  
> And all the usual drivel.


	6. V

Monty pulled the string on the wall in his quarters that rang for a servant. Miles and Kerry were sprawled across the floor, picking at a tray of snacks they’d taken from the kitchens, doing nothing in particular. The poetry, they told Monty, could not be forced, so they were waiting for it to come. Occasionally, they’d throw something at each other, all in good spirits.

After a short wait, a servant, a girl no older than fifteen, came up to their room. “You called for a servant, sirs?”

“Yes, actually, but I was looking for someone specific,” Monty said. “Might you be so kind as to find a one Courtney and send her to me, please?”

“And have her bring us more food!” Miles called from the floor, raising a hand. Monty rolled his eyes, but the servant bowed her head.

“I’ll have it done at once, sirs.”

Monty closed the door and looked at his poet comrades. “You two are incorrigible.”

“Does anything rhyme with ‘incorrigible?’?” Kerry asked, turning to Miles. It took Miles half a minute of silence to come up with an answer.

“Table?”

“You’re relieved of your duties as poet,” Kerry said, throwing a piece of bread at Miles.

“Hey, at least I thought of something!”

Monty shook his head and sat down at his canvas, preparing his paints and brushes. After Miles and Kerry went through another round of bickering, there was a knock on the door. Monty rose from his seat and opened it, happy to see Courtney standing there.

“Dear Courtney, it’s so nice to see you,” Monty said politely. She curtsied the best she could with a large tray in her hands.

“I’m honored you asked for me, Monty.”

Kerry sat up. “Miles, she brought food!”

Miles cheered and stood up, rushing towards the door. With a chuckle, Courtney handed over the tray. Miles bent his head low. “Bless you, angel.”

“Goodness, I’ve never had so many people be so excited to see me before. Is that all you required?”

Monty scoffed. “That could never be it. Are you done with your chores?”

“I suppose. I’m more or less just directed, so if you called, I am at your service until you excuse me.”

“Excellent! Come, love, you’re going to show me what you can do!”

Courtney followed Monty over to his easel, and he sat her down. “Start small. I have a little still-life set up for you. I chose wine bottles instead of fruit because I’m not one for a cliché, so I hope that works for you. What I want you to do is show me what you can do. Don’t try to impress me or think you need to excel. Do what you feel comfortable with. I’ve set paints, pencils, and chalks out for you. Use whatever you like.”

“Kerry, stop hogging all the bread!” Miles shouted from across the room, a halfhearted scuffle ensuing between the two. Monty looked over at them.

“And please try not to be distracted by my comrades.”

Courtney smiled and began, giving the bottles a long look before getting to work on them, picking up one of the pencils first. Monty sat behind her on a large cushion, a bound book of blank sketching paper on his lap and a charcoal stick in his hand. He watched Courtney as she worked, and found himself intrigued by the way she seemed to lose herself in her work. He didn’t want to interrupt her, but with the way she seemed unperturbed by Miles and Kerry apparently trying to throw grapes into each other’s mouths and being loud and obnoxious, he decided it wouldn’t be too hard to ask her questions.

“Tell me, Courtney, where are you from?”

She rubbed a smudge onto the canvas. “It hardly matters anymore. The town stands empty.”

Monty grimaced. “You were brought here as a slave.”

Courtney shrugged. “More or less. But it’s been about nine months, and I’ve made peace with my circumstances. Most people around me are kind and the work isn’t hard. There’s a handmaiden who assists one of the ladies, Barbara, and she looks out for me. She’s very sweet.”

“Is there more than one lady that lives here?” Monty asked, holding his thumb out to get a good measure.

“Two or three, I think. Barbara assists Lady Griffon, I believe.”

“Ah, Lady Griffon,” Monty said happily. “She’s very sweet. Although I feel like she has some secret problem with the king.”

“Is there anyone here who doesn’t?”

Monty chuckled. “I suppose not. You work well with chalks, Courtney.”

“Do I?” she looked at the canvas. “You flatter me, sir.”

“I’m nothing if not honest.”

“Boot licker!” Miles called from across the room, launching a grape at Monty.

“Just tell her you fancy her, it’ll be easier to woo her!” Kerry added.

Courtney laughed, carefully covering her hand with her mouth as Monty rolled his eyes and went limp against the pillow.

Co-habitating with Miles and Kerry certainly kept him on his toes.

* * *

Barbara entered Griffon’s room and bowed deeply to her. “My Lady, presenting Sir Michael Burns to you.”

Griffon looked up from her little workstation and smiled at the curly-haired knight that stepped into her room. “I hope I’m not interrupting anything.”

“Not in the slightest.”

“I was wondering, My Lady, if you had the time to accompany me on a quick stroll through the town?”

“I always have time for you, Burnie,” Griffon said sweetly. “Barbara, please keep my room tidy while I’m out, will you?”

“Of course, My Lady. Shall I fetch a cloak for you?”

“Having one wouldn’t hurt.”

Barbara walked over to Griffon’s wardrobe while Griffon dusted off her dress. “It seems everyone is trying to keep me from finishing this little project.”

Burnie scoffed. “You could have said you were busy and sent me away!”

Barbara walked over and draped the cloak over Griffon’s shoulders; Griffon latched the clasp. “And miss time with my favorite knight? Never. Remember, Barbara, nice and tidy in here, am I understood?”

“Perfectly,” Barbara said, bowing her head. She knew that Griffon didn’t mean to actually clean her chambers; Griffon was asking Barbara to keep people out of her room by saying she was trying to clean and wanted no one to disturb her chores, on her lady’s orders. Griffon took Burnie’s arm and they walked out together, Griffon in a simple dress, Burnie in his knight’s clothes.

In town, Burnie walked with his hands behind his back. “There’s a place just up here, a small little farming plot. The owner will give you some little things for the animals to eat and you can feed them. I thought you of all people would love that.”

“You know me too well, Burnie,” Griffon said, smiling widely.

Burnie led Griffon to the tiny farm and the owner gave them some little biscuits for the animals to eat, and Griffon had a ball with them; she took especially to a small group of little goats that bleated and head butted her shins. She laughed and petted them and fed them the little biscuits, and sighed fondly when one tried to jump up on her.

“Oh, if only I could keep you!” she said, a bittersweet edge in her voice. “I’d love you and let you roam all over the palace grounds! And, as a treat, I’d let you loose in the castle and let you eat the tapestries!”

“Do you really think His Highness would take kindly to that?” Burnie asked.

“Oh, I couldn’t care less what he takes kindly to. No, no nibbling!” Griffon chided kindly, tapping the nose of the goat that thought her cloak seemed like a delicious treat. “He seems to mistrust everyone, even the people he relies on. Why should it bother me if he sees me as someone he doesn’t trust?”

Burnie frowned. “I wouldn’t do anything to upset Joel, Griffon. I know you like to think you’ve got some sort of immunity against his wishes, but you have to tread lightly.”

Griffon thanked the farmer and the two walked out of the fenced in yard, walking slowly towards the rest of the market. Burnie caught her arm and bent low to her ear. “Griffon, you need to keep your head about this. Just because you swore yourself with an exchange of red stone to Geoff does not mean that you are immune to any plot that Joel has brewing. Do you think that Joel’s going to suddenly leave you alone because you love someone?”

Like she was suddenly made of stone, Griffon stayed stuck to the spot, the unfair reality spinning in front of her eyes. After a moment’s silence, Burnie sighed and slid his hand down until he was holding her hand. “I don’t mean to scare you, Griffon. But you know exactly why you have to be careful. If you upset Joel and he tries to marry you off like he’s done with so many other noblewomen, you can’t stop him by saying ‘I’m in love with a wanted man.’ And as much as I’m sure Geoff doesn’t want you shipped off to some foreign diplomat, I don’t want that for you either. You forget, I had a front row seat to you two falling in love, and helped make it happen, no way I want all that hard work to go to waste.”

As dire as the situation presented to her was, Griffon couldn’t help but laugh. “No one brings light into the dark like you do, Burnie.”

“It’s a special talent. Come on, I get a handsome wage for being a knight, and I think I shall do the chivalrous thing and spend some of it on a lady fair.”

“And what, pray tell, are you going to buy for a lady fair that absconds from wearing things lavish and grand?”

Burnie held a hand over his heart and bowed his head. “My Lady! It’s as if you think I don’t know you! Why would I get you something that sparkles when I could gift you with something that would help in your woodcarving?”

“Truly, Burnie, you are the perfect friend.”

With matching smiles, they walked off toward a woodworking shop, trying to enjoy the moment while ignoring the black clouds looming overhead.

* * *

“I don’t know why you’re playing that with him,” Ryan said offhandedly, skimming through his gigantic spellbook.

“Why not? It’s just a simple card game,” Michael asked as Ray shuffled the cards and dealt them out.

“When we met him, he was cheating at a card game,” Ryan said, staring at a spell before murmuring it; a flame appeared on his palm.

Michael looked at Ray. “You did?” 

Ray held his hands up innocently. “That was to teach a lecherous rapist a lesson. I bear Michael no ill will, why would I cheat? Besides, we’ve got no money bet on the table.”

“And we’re not going to bet any money. We decided that all money we get is pooled for the benefit of the group,” Jack said, making some marks on his map.

“You’re welcome for all the food, by the way,” Ray said genially, holding up his hand of cards. “I believe it was my fat pile of gold that paid for it all.”

“No one likes a gloating prat,” Ryan said, closing his fist and making the fire disappear.

Michael snickered and drew a card, discarding another as he and Ray began to play. They played three hands when Michael looked over at the corner and regarded Geoff, who was sitting on a chair with his head against the wall.

“Is he still pouting?” Ray asked, sliding the deck of cards to Michael.

“Looks like it.”

“I am not pouting!” Geoff said angrily, glaring over at the group. “I’m just… thinking.”

Michael looked at Ray. “He is so pouting.”

“Massive pouting.”

“Have you two ever heard the adage ‘let still creepers be?’” Ryan asked, raising an eyebrow.

Ray shrugged. “Well, yeah, I mean, that’s something everyone’s heard.”

Ryan pointed at Geoff. “Still creeper. Leave him alone.”

Michael snickered and they began a new card game. Everyone returned to what they were doing like nothing had happened, spending the time quietly. Occasionally, Ryan would make a noise that sounded like sparks or Jack would rustle his map, but generally, it was silent. And the little noises stopped altogether when the door to Gavin’s room opened and Gavin walked out. Everyone froze and watched Gavin closely, worried about what he would do. Casually, Gavin strode over to a large cabinet and opened it, reaching inside and grabbing an apple. He bit into it and closed the cupboard, walking back to his room. He paused at the table and nodded.

“Best of luck with the cards, Michael.”

“Thanks, Gavin,” Michael replied, rearranging the cards in his hand. Gavin nodded again and walked back into his room, firmly shutting the door behind him.

Geoff looked flabbergasted. “What the hell was that?”

“What?” Michael asked, throwing a card down.

“He talked to you! And it was encouraging! How’d you get him to do that?”

“I think you’ll find, Geoff, that when I spent time with him, I sort of treated him nicely? I didn’t kidnap him, either.”

Ray laughed, throwing down his cards and leaning his head on the table. “Oh, man. Living with you guys is never boring.”

* * *

“So, what exactly is our plan?”

Geoff opened his mouth to explain when a loud slam came from inside Gavin’s room. It seemed he was trying his latest escapade to open the magically locked cabinet. “Well, we have a pretty solid hold on the terrain around, and I know how to navigate through the area to get to the castle. It’s just a matter of getting inside stealthily.”

Jack looked over at their mage. “Ryan, will we be alone or will we have allies in this?”

Ryan tapped his chin. “That depends on what you mean by allies. If you’re asking if it’s going to be more than the six of us, then no. If we add anyone else to our group, we’re going to fail. However, just because no one will be here with us while we plan does not mean we don’t have allies. I know Geoff has his soldier tie on the inside.”

“He’s a knight, now, and holds an incredible amount of power. We can definitely trust him to get people on our side.”

“And I sense someone’s been looking for us.”

Jack’s eyebrows furrowed in concern. “We know that Joel has a mage. Is he the one looking for us?”

“No, surprisingly enough. He can’t seem to break through the covers I’ve placed on us. But there is another, someone in Joel’s ranks, who is trying valiantly to break through, and has gotten through a few times. And in a non-hostile way.”

“How can you tell?” Ray asked, spinning a knife between his fingers.

“Magic has a signature on it, whenever it’s used. If the intent to use the magic is malicious, you can sense it. And I, being a mage, can sense magical intent even more than a non-magic user. This person that’s trying to look at us… they’re not malicious. They’re friendly, even. And there’s someone this person is very keen on looking at.”

“Who’s that?”

Ryan tilted his head at Michael. “This person follows Michael’s movements like a hawk.”

Michael’s eyes went wide and he looked around. “Me? Why me?”

“I couldn’t tell you. But, if my theory is correct, this person who is trying to break through our barrier would be more than happy to help us. Wants to help us, even.”

Ray grinned. “Got an admirer, Jones.”

Michael looked down at his shoes, as if he was trying to imagine the person that wanted to watch him. Another loud bang came from Gavin’s room. Geoff looked over at it.

“What do we do about him?”

“Let’s not worry about that.” Ryan opened his spellbook and turned to a page with a long bookmark on it. “For now, I wanted to show you all something I have been working on. It’s a fairly difficult spell, but it will be very useful if we can make it work.”

“What’s this we business?” Jack said, befuddled.

“I obviously have to cast the spell, but it helps if you’re concentrated on it. It’s hard to explain. Basically, what—”

“Shh,” Ray said suddenly, holding a hand out. “Do you hear that?” 

They all froze and listened. There was one more bang from inside Gavin’s room, and then Ray was on his feet. “Son of a bitch. Weapons, now. There are enemies outside.”

“Like what?” Jack asked, unwilling to rush out and risk everyone’s injury.

“I can hear an Enderman outside. If they so much as even take out one chunk of the ceiling, the other things will fall in. And I do not like the idea of monsters in here.”

Geoff groaned and slid on his chest plate. “This is such a pain in the ass. I am going to be so happy when I don’t have to live in the forest, away from civilization.”

Michael drew his sword and followed Ray up the ladder of the hideout. There was another bang from Gavin’s room, with a nasty scratching sound following it, and the three remaining followed the two up the ladder. Geoff frowned at the familiar scene, of the Enderman staring Michael down while Ray tried to sneak up on it. On the edges was a zombie they were trying to avoid, and Geoff could hear the clicking noises of a spider.

Like he had before, Ryan whispered his spell and whipped his staff out, a jet of water bursting from the end. It felled the Enderman, which screeched and left a smear of black on the ground. Michael nodded his head at Ryan in thanks.

“Take a knee, Jones, and stiffen up!” Ray shouted, running at Michael. Without asking why, Michael hit the ground and stiffened. Ray jumped up on Michael’s extended knee, stepping up to his shoulder, and propelled himself up, slashing the head off a zombie that had walked up behind Michael. Ray hit the ground and spun as Michael ran off towards another zombie that had come from the opposite direction. Geoff watched with some surprise when Michael stopped dead, let the zombie lunge forward, then pressed forward with this sword, catching the zombie through the skull.

The clicking noise got louder and a spider came out of the brush. Grinning, Geoff ran for it as Ryan and Jack tag-teamed another zombie that had appeared. It felt good, getting his frustrations out on the spider. Sure, beating it with his shield and then stabbing it through the eye with his sword had probably been overkill, but he had some pent-up feelings to deal with.

“Jack, I am getting real tired of having to fight monsters all the time!” Ryan said irritably, jumping back when a spider leapt at him.

“Come on, this is keeping me young!” Ray said excitedly, using Michael as a springboard again to stab a spider.

“Petition to have some lights out here so the monsters will stay away!” Michael yelled, slashing a zombie. He ducked when an arrow went whizzing by. “Fuck, now we’ve got a Goddamn skeleton!”

“Lights will make the other monsters find us faster. I’d rather deal with this skeleton asshole than someone who serves Joel blindly!” Geoff replied, throwing his shield at the skeleton. It shot off an arrow (Ray dodged it quickly) before the shield struck it, breaking his bones apart. Geoff ran after his shield; when he picked it up, a hiss filtered through the air.

“Creeper!” Ray yelled. The five of them turned and looked, and Geoff was cursing the stars he was born under. The creeper was swollen and getting bigger. If they attempted to get near it to take it out, it would explode and either maim or kill them. But if they didn’t attack him, it was going to blow a hole in the roof of their hideout.

“Take cover!” Michael yelled. Geoff agreed that it would be better to rebuild than die. They did have Jack, after all. He dove back and held his shield in front of him, but the boom of explosion never came. What did come was the sharp twang of a bow releasing an arrow and an object falling to the ground. Geoff looked from behind his shield and saw the creeper lying on the ground in a heap, an arrow sticking out from between its eyes. He looked to where the arrow had come from and was shocked to see Gavin standing thirty feet away, his quiver on his back and his bow in his hand, his creeper skin and hood all put back on. The only thing he was missing was his boots; he was barefoot on the grass.

“You are all moronic, and have no idea what you’re doing,” Gavin said, walking forward, the long wraps of his hood trailing behind him. He pulled his arrow out of the creeper’s head and stuck it back in his quiver, nudging the monster with his bare foot. “If you slice it open, you’ll get a pretty sturdy skin to make leather out of, and a whole lot of black powder.”

“Wait, how do we not know what we’re doing?” Ray demanded, clearly offended by his comments.

“How did you get your stuff out of the cabinet?” Ryan asked, befuddled by how Gavin got past his magic.

“And why aren’t you wearing shoes?” Michael asked, looking at Gavin’s feet.

“Those boots take some time to lace up,” Gavin said, smiling at Michael. “And you are all running around blind out here. On your own, you could be okay. Maybe you could survive. But together, you’re still thinking apart. And it’s going to cause problems.” 

“So what, you’re just going to insult us and then hightail it out of here?” Geoff said irritably.

“No. I’m going to insult you, then stick around to help you work past it. You need me more than I need you, but you know what? It’s nice to be needed. I’ll willingly be part of this little lads and gents crusade you have going on.”

Ryan beamed. “Well, I told you all to trust me! I knew he’d come around!”

Gavin smiled, and walked over to the smear of Enderman. He picked up the teal pearl and looked at it. “Goodness, it’s good no one stepped on this.”

He stuck it in his pouch and walked over to Geoff. “So what do you say? You’re the self-elected leader. Do you think you can stay sober enough to have me around?”

Geoff shrugged. “Do I have a choice? Welcome aboard.”

“Good,” Gavin said, winding up and punching Geoff in the nose. Geoff let out a shout of pain and fell to his knees, clutching his nose as Ray started laughing like a maniac.

“You rat bastard, son of a bitch, what was that for?” Geoff said, slightly muffled by his hand. “Fuck, you made my nose bleed!”

“That was for Tainford, you prick. Now, we’re even.” Gavin extended a hand. “Come on, get up.”

Geoff looked at Gavin’s hand, then begrudgingly took it and let himself be pulled to his feet. Ryan walked over, murmured a spell, and held his hand over Geoff’s nose. The bleeding stopped immediately.

“So, how exactly did you get your things out?”

Gavin smiled. “You enchanted the locks and hinges. But the rest of the wood was fair game. You wouldn’t believe the things a fire poker does to wood.”

Jack’s face fell. “Did you break my cabinet?”

Michael laughed when Gavin’s grin got a little wider. “Don’t lock my things away again and I won’t break anything else. Now, come on. We have some serious work to do, and Achiever here needs to clean up.”

* * *

Griffon was delighted by the woodworking tools Burnie had gifted to her. They were more specialized, and made working on her projects that much easier. She was close to finishing the piece she’d been working on for weeks when there was a commotion outside of her door.

“I apologize, but she’s asked to not be disturbed! Please, Highness, I have been ordered— Your Highness!”

Griffon sighed as the door to her quarters opened and Joel stood in the door frame, Barbara behind him looking apologetic and nervous.

“I’m sorry, My Lady! I tried to tell him you wished to be undisturbed, but—”

“Barbara, calm down!” Griffon said, standing and brushing her dress off. “I’m not upset.”

“Please, maid, leave us,” Joel said, looking at Barbara. She looked between Joel and Griffon, then bowed her head and left the room, looking like she was going to cry. Griffon looked at Joel.

“To what do I owe this pleasure?”

“I have just been meeting with my mage, and he had some interesting things to say.”

“Surely it doesn’t concern me.”

“No, I wouldn’t say it does.”

“Then may I ask that you respectfully leave my quarters at once? You have terrorized my handmaiden and interrupted my work, again. It’s very hard to have a hobby with you barging in all the time, Your Highness.”

Joel walked forward; Griffon stood her ground, keeping herself strong. Joel looked down at her pendant; without a word, he reached out and grabbed it. Griffon felt her heart leap into her throat, from fear, but also from anger. He had no right to touch it, not when the artifact bound her to another. 

He brought it up and examined it closely. “Red stone. It has magical properties, doesn’t it?”

“I assume so. I haven’t had a charm placed on it.”

Joel clicked his tongue. “I wouldn’t lie, My Lady. Red stone glitters when it has been imbued with magic. Yours looks positively sparkling.”

“If it has anything placed upon it, I had no hand in it.”

Griffon gasped when Joel pulled on the chain, making her move closer. He looked at the pendant again. “What is this little piece of metal that keeps it on the chain? Perhaps iron?”

“I… couldn’t tell you.”

“It almost looks like a piece of chain mail armor.”

“How ingenious, to use a—”

Joel cut Griffon off quickly, pulling on the chain again. “Your lies do not become you, Griffon. I’d say this is the trinket of a sweetheart. A soldier, perhaps?”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

With a fierce look, Joel yanked the chain so hard it burned into Griffon’s skin; suddenly, he was holding the pendant farther away from her neck than the chain allowed. Enraged, she reached for it.

“How dare you destroy my personal—”

“I know who gave this to you, Griffon,” Joel said darkly, dangling the red stone in front of her. “I know you were planning to marry that fool Geoff Ramsey. I know all about your little tryst, and how you met him before he even became a knight, worthy of your time. What scandal, to know the lovely Lady Griffon was sullying herself with the hands of a lowly soldier.”

Griffon looked up at Joel. “You haven’t the slightest idea of what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, I really think I do, Griffon,” he said, gathering the necklace in his hand. “I keep my knowledge to myself, for the most part. But I figured, why not share some of it? For example, I know, for absolute fact, that he is still alive.”

With every ounce of will, Griffon managed to keep her strength. “And why do you tell me this? To taunt my girlish desires? To make a fool of me?”

“Tell me, Griffon, do you know why I haven’t used you to strengthen my political ties? Because believe me, I’ve used the other noblewomen for it.”

Griffon remained silent. Joel continued on, passing the necklace from one hand to another. “I have even more power than you could imagine.”

“What are you insinuating?”

Joel chuckled. “I’ve got that powerful mage, you know, like I just mentioned. Able to see things all throughout the country. But he can’t see exactly what Geoff is up to, which means your little prat soldier has his own mage. I know he’s trying to do something to take me down. And I have something that will make him end his little venture.”

“And just what is this grand master pawn of yours? Your precious mage?” Griffon spat angrily.

Slyly, with an evil grin, Joel held up the necklace. “I have you.”

“You most certainly do not have me.”

“Oh, I think you’ll find I do.” Joel looked at the red stone pendant almost thoughtfully. “I hold the power to pit you two against each other. Red stone is a very powerful binding agent, My Lady. You must have been very serious to exchange items of red stone with him. No doubt he has his own little charm from you.”

“Get on with your explanation,” Griffon said fiercely.

“I control every move he makes simply by having you nearby. And I also hold you in my power by playing him.”

“You’re still not making yourself clear.”

“Then let me shed a little light on the subject: if your darling soldier even dares set in motion one plot against me, it’s your life he’s losing. And we both know he’d never risk that.”

Griffon swallowed, trying to remain stone-faced. Joel twirled the necklace around his finger twice before collecting it in his palm. “And if you, dear Griffon, do so much as one thing to defy me, it’s his life I’ll end. Slowly. Painfully. And where I know I can make you watch him suffer and die for a lost cause.”

A cold chill ran down Griffon’s spine as the full weight of the threat fell into her mind. Her eyes welled up in tears at the very thought. “You have no power over me.”

“Oh, I really do.”

Griffon yelped as Joel threw the pendant on the floor. Blindly, Griffon bent down to collect it, a tear spilling as she did. Joel bent low and caught her jaw, forcing her to look up.

“I own you, Griffon. Don’t you forget that. I’d tread lightly, if I were you.”

It was a testament to Griffon’s self-restraint that she did not spit in Joel’s face. He grinned and let her go, then strolled out of her room without another word, looking too cheerful with himself. Griffon sat on the ground for another moment, looking at her red stone pendant, attached to the broken chain by a piece of Geoff’s black chain mail. Quietly, she held the piece to her heart and forced the tears away.

She would not be so easily intimidated, or defeated.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It has been a long time since I've updated and I feel bad but school is killer, man. Plus, I've got a new fun little something in the works I do hope you'll enjoy!  
> For now, enjoy this. The team is all together (and I love the image of Gavin punching Geoff in the nose, makes me laugh every time to imagine it) and we have more conflict.  
> Dun dun dun!!!!
> 
> This chapter's for my lovely Stephanie who has become an absolutely amazing friend <3


	7. VI

“So, uh… why exactly does Gavin call you Rosy?”

Ray made a face as he and Michael washed clothes in the river. “He’s a Creecher, I’m a Rose Red. Though Creechers aren’t trained to be assassins, they can choose to be, and some of them do. Because the ones who do are more well-known than the others, people assume that all Creechers are assassins. Since most of them are not, they try to distance themselves from the term, and many of them look down their noses at us. Rosy is kind of like an insult, reducing us to a childish term.”

Michael scrubbed his tunic. “That seems a little harsh.”

“Creechers are a complicated bunch. Even I don’t really know all that much about them. Supposedly, they’re not even really comrades with each other. They’re loners, really. Whereas we Rose Reds can call upon each other at a moment’s notice and expect our brothers and sisters to be there.”

“There are female Rose Reds?”

Ray grinned and pointed at his collarbone. “See this scar?”

“The one that looks like you got slashed by an ax? Yes, I do.”

“A Rose Red by the name of Eloise did that. She had this nasty, weighted, serrated blade on the end of a chain, and she could move it like a snake charmer.”

“Why’d she attack you?”

“I made the mistake of thinking I was better than her simply because she was a woman. She taught me very quickly.”

Michael chuckled and wrung out his tunic, glancing back over at Ray. His eyebrows furrowed. “What is that, on your arm there?”

Ray jerked. “What is it? Get it off! Get it off!”

“No, no, it’s not a bug or anything. You have a rose on your arm.”

Ray held out his left forearm. “Oh. Yeah, I do.”

“Is it like the rose on your chest? Just a token?”

“Oh, not even hardly,” Ray said, touching the scar almost fondly. “I shouldn’t really be telling you this, but I trust you. When you are officially initiated to be a Rose Red, you are in for life. The way that this is accomplished, beyond just trusting that I won’t sway from the brotherhood, is a bonding ritual.”

Michael dunked a pair of trousers under the water as Ray scrubbed blood out of a shirt of Geoff’s. “What happens is — to the nether with this damn spot, Geoff needs to not get hurt so often — what happens is, you swear an oath before the High Roses, the leaders, and as you take your vows, someone carves a rose into your arm. As much blood is collected as possible, and then it’s used in a magic spell that binds you to the brotherhood forever.”

“Does any chanting happen?”

“No, surprisingly,” Ray said, shoving the shirt under the water like he was attempting to drown it in frustration. “You stand next to your brothers and sisters that are being initiated as well, and when the ritual is finished, the wound heals into a white scar like this. I met Rose Reds, old men and women who could no longer assassinate and were cared for by the youngers, whose scars, even in their old age, looked freshly healed, like they’d been initiated within the year. It’s a strange magic they use.”

They chatted back and forth for a few more minutes, washing the clothes diligently, before a few pebbles from the ridge rolled down the bank next to them, piling up. They looked around, then behind them. Like lightning, the both dove out of the way of a Creeper-clad archer that was barreling toward them, narrowly avoiding Gavin as he slid down the slope on a long piece of flat wood, skidding on the water for a foot or two before his weight pushed the wood beneath the water.

“You two need to slide down that hill on this,” he said, picking up the wood and trudging out of the water, smiling genially. “It’s top.”

“Gavin, did you just slide down the hill to interrupt our laundry duties?” Ray asked, gesturing to Gavin in exasperation.

“Nope! Came down here to tell you two to hurry up. It’s time we take into account what we all bring to the table, and form a course of action.”

Michael and Ray glanced at Gavin as he held the piece of wood over his head. “We’ve got a revolution to plan, lads.”

* * *

It was unspoken that Geoff was the leader. His strong commanding instincts, despite the fact that he tried to come across as relaxed and calm, made them all look to him as a director, the person who was going to stand at the forefront of their operations and point them in the right direction.

That, however, did not stop Gavin from putting his foot down and commanding their attention.

Dressed in casuals, Gavin barefoot (his wet boots were out drying in the sunshine with the laundry), they sat around their table, Ray shuffling his deck of cards while Ryan thumbed through his spellbook. Michael seemed to be the only one out of all of them who seemed intent to listen to what Gavin had to say.

Slowly, methodically, and as if he had all the time in the world, Gavin prepared himself a cup of tea. Water was poured, cream was added, sugar was sprinkled in, and, when he was pleased, Gavin walked back to the table, stirring his tea and focusing on nothing else. When he sat down, everyone looked at him, since he had called their meeting, and said nothing. Gavin blew on his tea, took a sip, hummed his approval, then looked over the rim of his cup at his comrades.

“You’re going to fail.”

The atmosphere change was instant. Indignation, disbelief, and anger rippled through the five as they took in what Gavin said; Geoff especially seemed downright offended.

“Excuse me, Creecher, but just where do you—” Geoff started angrily; Gavin raised his hand and cut him off.

“You’re going to fail,” Gavin reiterated, taking another sip. “Unless you fully understand your strengths and weaknesses.”

Michael looked at the others, then back at Gavin. “Well, what do you mean by that?”

Gavin leaned his elbows on the table and held his cup with both hands, mulling over his comrades. “You see, you all work wonderfully. You all have strengths that will help us win this battle, there is no doubt about that. The only problem is that you refuse to acknowledge your weaknesses. And because you refuse to acknowledge them, they’re going to hurt you in the long run. Acknowledge your weaknesses, or fail.”

“So, just what do you mean by this?” Jack asked, shrugging. “We just have to know where we’re not as strong and that’s going to help us?”

“You simplify my meaning,” Gavin said, setting his cup down. “I don’t mean just acknowledging them. You don’t know each other’s strengths and weaknesses either, not really. You simply do what you do on your own and hope it syncs up with what the other people are doing. You’re going to get yourself killed that way. By recognizing your weaknesses and making up for them with your strengths, you’re going to be better.”

“I’m still not quite following your line of thinking,” Jack said. “So, if we just better our strengths, our weaknesses won’t matter?”

“No. Your weaknesses are going to be accounted for, and then covered by someone else. Let’s start with me, for example, since I know my strengths and weaknesses. I’m a marksman. There is no target at almost any distance I cannot hit with an arrow, even if that target is moving. My accuracy is within millimeters, and, if the time calls for it, I can simply knock a person out instead of killing them. And, as Rosy here knows, I can fire in quick succession and pin someone to something.”

Ray looked irritated. “Right.”

Gavin picked his cup back up and gestured it to his comrades. “Those are my strengths. I’ve got a sharp eye and a nasty habit of hitting dead center. But my weaknesses? I’m terrible in hand-to-hand. I’ve got the dagger for dire situations, but I prefer to be far away, detached from the fighting. If the combat gets close, I’m more vulnerable, because I don’t have the skills needed to take down an enemy in close proximity.”

Taking a sip from his cup, Gavin smiled and looked at Ray. “Rosy here is going to make up for that.”

“I am?”

“Your skills are nothing but up close skills. Stealth, close kills, never being heard, and leaving an enemy on the ground before they even know what’s going on. You’re silent, and you know it. Your skills would probably mean little in distance, even with your throwing knives. If the target was at a distance, and you couldn’t get closer, there wouldn’t be much you could do. Am I correct?”

Ray, still cutting the deck in his hands, mulled it over. “More or less. I am rather good with my throwing knives, but I’m better at dual-wielding, and I highly doubt I could throw a knife as far as you can shoot an arrow.”

“My long range is balanced by your short range. Do you see where I’m getting at with this?”

“We each have a weakness another makes up with their strength,” Geoff concluded, crossing his arms. “Sounds easy enough.”

“Achiever’s got it. True teamwork is making up for another’s weaknesses with your strengths. So, we just need to identify what they are for each of us, and work from there. Rosy and I have gone. It’s your turn.”

Geoff sighed and picked up the small metal tumbler from which he liked to drink his whiskey. He took a sip, then looked at his comrades. “I’ve got the formal training in combat. I know hand-to-hand, and if I hadn’t been so… otherwise occupied, I would have been a knight. I know strategy, I know how to keep my cool in a battle, and, more importantly, I know how the soldiers we’re going to be up against are going to fight. I share their style, and I can teach you all how to counter it.”

“Excellent. An insight into the enemy. What’s your weakness?”

Geoff took another sip of his whiskey, then set his tumbler down. “I… myself, personally, have never done well with many enemies. I lose focus and can’t keep my mind on my foes. If I have more than three against me, and even that’s pushing the limit, I get flustered, and I make mistakes. Mistakes that could cost us our victory.”

Almost like a dog being presented a bone, Michael perked up and raised his hand. “That’s where I come in!”

All five of them looked at him; Gavin seemed the least surprised by his comment. Clearing his throat, Michael put his hand down. “I mean, well… the more enemies, the better, if that makes sense. It’s a momentum thing with me. When I get going, I can focus my energy to keep going and keep track of more than one foe. I get really intense adrenaline rushes, and when there are more enemies for me to fight, it gives that adrenaline somewhere to go.”

“Excellent,” Gavin said, grinning. “Do you have a weakness?”

Michael looked sheepish. “I’m horrible with directions. I get lost a lot. In something as labyrinth as a large city’s alleys, I could get stuck.”

Geoff chuckled and pointed at Jack. “That has you written all over it, buddy.”

Jack chuckled. “I guess that does have me written all over it. I am a master of directions, and there isn’t a measurement on this planet I’m not capable with. Once I learn the distance you all travel by walking, jogging, or running, I can basically know how long it’s going to take you to get anywhere, or where to turn after a certain amount of time.”

“And he’s not even kidding. I was once almost caught by a superior for not being in my barracks, and he told me to run full speed down this series of alleyways, telling me where to turn after I counted to a certain number. I thought he was crazy, but I got back to my barracks in record time. I was amazed,” Geoff said proudly, lifting his tumbler to toast to his friend.

“Plus, I know the whole layout of the city. I helped build a few of the buildings. There’s no location in Achievement City I could not direct you to.”

“And what’s your weakness?”

“Jack’s a lover,” Geoff teased, grinning and leaning back in his chair. Jack made a sarcastic face at Geoff and shrugged.

“I’d call myself more diplomatic. I would rather talk it out with someone, but I can fight, if I need to.”

“I’m afraid talking it out isn’t going to help in our situation,” Gavin said, picking up his cup of tea. “Do you have any skills in a fight?”

Jack shrugged again. “I can be fairly menacing with my ax. I can swing it, and do damage.”

“Is it two-handed?”

“Yes, but the handle is shorter than you’d expect.”

Gavin tapped his chin. “We’ll work with it. And, honestly, as far as I can see, you and Ryan are the only two who make up for each other’s faults in a fight.”

Ryan and Jack looked at each other. “We do?”

“I watched before shooting the creeper, for a moment. Jack knows movement. He knows terrain, and how to move in any terrain fairly well. And he knows how other things will move. So he lures. There was a zombie you two went after yesterday. Ryan stood back, waiting, while Jack teased the zombie into range, then it was a switch and Ryan annihilated it with his magic. You two played off of each other, and you made it work.” Gavin rapped his knuckles on the table and grinned at the group. “That’s what we’re after with everyone. Ray taking out the short range while I demolish the long range. Michael fighting off the many while Geoff defeats the few. Jack directing the enemy so Ryan may clearly hurt them. These sort of things are what is going to help us, lads.”

“More than that,” Geoff said, raising his tumbler. “These are the things that are going to help us win.”

Gavin tilted his head back, drinking the remainder of his tea. He set his cup down, wiped his mouth, then raised his eyebrows. “Let’s hop to it, then.”

* * *

Monty had his first commissioned portrait session, and was happily setting up for it in the designated studio. He set out his colors and prepared his large canvas; he was expecting Joel to come in and be painted, not a surprise for a royal.

But he was surprised, however, when it was not Joel who walked through the door of the studio, but Lady Griffon O’Connell, looking thoroughly displeased, dressed in a beautiful dress of brilliant gold and rich purple. Her hair was pulled back and curled, as it was often, and she had a dual row of pearls in her hair. Her red lips were set into a scowl.

“Good morning, My Lady,” Monty said, dipping his head. “I wasn’t expecting you to be the first portrait I painted.”

“Neither was I,” Griffon said, shrugging. “Where would you like me?”

“I could never compromise the beauty of that dress with a prop, My Lady,” Monty said, holding his hands up in a square and viewing her through it. “Perhaps just against that backdrop, over there. The colors are the same but the shades are deeply muted so your dress will stand out.”

Griffon grimaced and walked over to the washed out lavender and gold backdrop dropping all demeanor of ladylike behavior. Monty viewed her, and smiled as she stood with her hands on her dress in front of her.

“I take it, My Lady,” Monty said taking out a sketching pencil and drawing out her outline on the canvas. “That you are not pleased by this arrangement.”

“I detest this dress. It’s gaudy and laced too tight. And I hate that I know that Joel is going to have his portrait painted in similar colors,” Griffon said, touching the red stone pendant that hung from her neck, the broken chain replaced. “Forgive me, Monty, but there will be no smiling from me in this portrait.”

“Should I make it known that you are frowning?”

“I implore you. Make me look as unhappy as possible.”

Monty chuckled and sketched a little more before picking his colors. As he mixed a few colors together to get the shade necessary, he kept looking over at Griffon; something about her was different. After a minute of puzzling, Monty walked over to her.

“If I may be permitted, My Lady?” he said, reaching for her waist. Griffon, not asking any questions, allowed Monty to stand with her as if they were about to dance. Monty looked her up and down, one hand on her waist, the other clutching her hand, and he hummed.

“Are you not wearing any shoes, My Lady?”

The laugh that Griffon let out was genuine. “How on earth did you notice that?”

“A few ways. The bottom of your dress is wrinkling just the slightest, like it’s bunched on the ground instead of resting. And you look shorter than when we danced.”

“Your eye for detail is astounding. Yes, I’m not wearing shoes. It’s tiresome to wear those painful shoes when I’m just going to stand for hours.”

“Intelligent, beautiful, and artistic. Were I so inclined, I might try my hand at seducing you, My Lady.”

Griffon smirked. “You’d be wasting your time.”

“I assumed as much.” Monty began dabbing the barest of shades onto his canvas, a base coat of sorts. He worked quietly, his eyebrows furrowed as he placed paint upon his canvas, Griffon standing as still as she could for the painter. Every so often, she would shift, fearful she would disturb Monty, but he didn’t say a word, and kept at his pace, focused and intent.

After what felt like an eternity, Monty set down the brush he’d been holding. “Alright, you may rest for a moment.”

Griffon sighed in relief and slumped as much as her corset would allow, then looked toward a pile of cushions. “Monty, may I be unladylike around you without offending you?”

“As much as you’d like,” Monty said, rotating his wrists in turn, relaxing the tension that holding the paint brush had made set in.

Griffon smiled and walked over to the cushions, then fell over onto them with a flump, relaxing. “Ah, that’s so much better.”

“Your ability to wear any color and look marvelous in it is quite rare,” Monty said offhandedly. “The blue and gold you wore at the ball was delightful, and this dress, now, is just as beautiful. And I have sneaked my way into a wardrobe or two, to see what colors I might need to work with, and yours, by far, had the most stunning array of colors. It was like a kaleidoscope.”

Griffon raised an eyebrow. “You went rummaging through my wardrobe?”

“My intentions were entirely gentlemanly, I assure you. And I was under Barbara’s hawk eyes the entire time. She’s very menacing, you know.”

Griffon chuckled proudly. “I went through three handmaids before settling on Barbara. None of the others had her tenacity, or her loyalty. A flash of the king’s grin and the others let him do as he pleased. Barbara not only stands her ground, but makes many run in fear. Plus, she tells horrible jokes that always lighten the mood.”

“That she does. My cohorts Miles and Kerry have several playful limericks written about her.”

“Do they?”

“All in good fun. When someone makes such terrible wordplay as Barbara, she can’t expect anything else from court poets that spend their time lazing about, eating food and insulting one another.”

Griffon smiled and tried to imagine what sort of things Miles and Kerry might say about Barbara. After a moment, Monty spoke again.

“I have to ask, My Lady, with your penchant for wearing red on your lips, and how you never take off that polished red stone pendant, why is it that you never wear the red dresses in your wardrobe more often? There were quite a few, and they were all beautiful.”

The silence that followed his question was heavy and cold. Monty was about to apologize when Griffon sighed.

“I was a young girl, attending a banquet alone for the first time. I was wearing a red dress, a grand red dress that I believe still sits in my family’s manor. As I entered the banquet, a charming man told me I was an angel in red.”

Monty tilted his head in befuddlement. “So, you chose not to wear red ever again?”

“Oh, no, I wore red frequently from then on, especially when I stole away to go see him. I stopped wearing it when he left. When I decided no one else deserved to see me in it but him. When he comes back, when I see him again, I’ll wear red.”

“Your dedication is beautiful. Shall we start our session again?”

“I think that would be lovely. Be a dear, help me up?”

Monty walked over to Griffon, gripped her hands, and hoisted her up gently, smiling to her. She walked back to the spot she’d been in earlier, grateful that Monty was tactful and knew when to question and when to keep to himself. Indulging her reasons for not wearing red were something she’d never done, for fear of many prying and asking who the man was that complimented her in the color. Monty seemed to know that her statement had ended and she intended to go no further, and rightly questioned her no more.

Griffon liked Monty immensely, and every reminder that he was wonderful, as well as the fact that he was painting her scowling, was going to make her happy to have him as a friend.

* * *

“You needn’t worry. Though I strongly advised against letting Griffon know what we know, it’s not going to hinder anything. She has no way of contacting any of the troublemakers and telling them about our plans.”

Joel tapped his fingers against the wall and scowled as Gus stood with his hands behind his back. With a deep breath, Joel looked at Gus. “But what about those on the inside? You’ve told me there are some people on the inside.”

“I said there might be, not there definitely are. I hate to break this to you, Your Highness, but you came to power by an overthrowing force, and you overtook a beloved ruler. There are people that dislike you, even in your own ranks. Does that mean that they have the power to dethrone you? No, it doesn’t. After all, what is an arrow to an Enderman?”

Joel huffed and looked at the row of empty glass bottles Lindsay was cleaning, humming to herself as she made them sparkle. “An arrow is nothing. But Endermen are not invincible. Have you never seen one when it starts to rain? And no one can control the rain.”

“I can assure you, you have nothing to worry about. All incoming and outgoing messages are merely correspondences between knights here in the city and soldiers stationed around Tex.”

“But what if—”

“Sire, I mean this with the utmost respect, but if you don’t let go of your paranoia now, that’s going to end you before any little group of rebels will,” Gus said, rubbing his eyes. “I am telling you, even with the cloak their mage has over them, there is no way six unskilled fighters are going to take down your army.”

“There is no way to break through this cloak and see?”

“I am positive. I would have found a way by now.”

Joel pointed at Lindsay. “What about her? Could she try and do it?”

“Your Highness, she hasn’t the slightest skill with scrying. It’s not something a mage is born with, you know. It takes practice. She is an apprentice, and still learning.”

“Is he telling me the truth?” Joel asked sharply, looking at Lindsay. Gus rubbed his eyes again as Lindsay looked up, wide-eyed.

“He is, Your Highness. I am merely an apprentice.”

Joel looked unsatisfied; he crossed his arms and huffed. “This is not how this is going to happen, these six silly little… children, running around and making a mockery of what I do!”

“Just worry about the affairs of state. Nothing will come of these six. You have much more important things to worry about. A case of gold is to be delivered today, ready to go right into the treasury. Worry about that.”

“Fine. But keep your eyes on this little group. Try to get through as soon as possible.”

Joel left the room with a scowl, less than pleased. Gus rubbed his eyes for the third time and sighed.

“Wondering whether or not this is worth it, Gus?” Lindsay commented, setting another bottle next to the others.

“We are safe here, and that’s all that matters. If the cost of safety is catering to his delusions, then that’s that. Finish cleaning those, we have work to do,” Gus said, walking over to his scrying water.

* * *

Gavin worked the lads and gents to exhaustion and then was frustrated when they refused to go on. Though he proclaimed they made excellent progress, they still had lots of things to work on, and his ranting was only ended when Ryan suggested he take over with something simpler.

“Alright, I may not be the best fighter, because I don’t have any sort of weapon skills that you guys have, but I most definitely have something to offer, and it’s all from this,” Ryan said, tapping his book. “I know a way to increase our advantage, and I need you guys to help me with it.”

“We’re in it together,” Geoff said, nodding resolutely.

“Excellent. May I have a volunteer to have a spell placed upon them?”

There was silence all around. After a moment, Ray shrugged. “What the hell. I’ll volunteer.”

“Wonderful! Alright, stand just there, and when I tell you to, concentrate on the location just to the left of you.”

“The left?”

Ryan gestured around. “Or, wherever, I don’t care. Just focus on some area we can see.”

Ray shrugged again and focused intently on the table. Ryan skimmed down the page with his finger, then looked up at Ray and held his hand out, then murmured a spitfire spell that Gavin couldn’t quite hear. They all waited with bated breath, unsure as to what was going to happen, when suddenly Ray was standing on top of the table.

Or, rather, Ray was still standing on the ground, but there was an exact copy of him on the table.

“Holy shit!” Ray shouted, falling backwards. The Ray copy on the table suddenly disappeared, leaving behind a faint shimmer imprint that fell down onto the wood of the table before dissipating.

“What the hell was that?” Geoff asked, eyes as wide as they would go.

“Well, if he had kept his focus, I would have shown you!” Ryan said, laughing at how Ray had gotten himself in a heap on the floor. “Would you like to try it again?”

“What exactly did you do?” Ray asked, looking over the table.

“Created a ghost. My spellbook calls it a corporeal phantom copy, but that’s a bit of a mouthful. The idea is that, with practice, you will be able to send this ghost around to do your bidding.”

Gavin tapped his chin. “I think I see where you’re going with this.”

“I do, too. If we can create these ghosts in a battle, people will think they’re us and attack them instead. Can they be damaged?” Michael asked, tapping the table thoughtfully.

“No. In fact, they can be passed right through. They’re an illusion, and are not solid at all. Let’s try Geoff this time. If you would.”

Geoff stood and focused on the table. “Er, should I stare at the table?”

“It actually is a good place to go, that way we can all see it. I see you doing this well, since you have a soldier’s focus,” Ryan said, holding his hand out again.

After a moment, a complete copy of Geoff materialized on the table in front of them, dressed completely in Geoff’s armor. He stayed materialized, even when Geoff looked up to view his ghost fully.

“Wow,” Jack said as Gavin reached out and touched the ghost. His hand went right through, the place where his wrist disappeared shimmering slightly. He pulled his hand back quickly, shaking it.

“He’s cold as ice,” Gavin commented, rubbing his fingers.

“That is so weird,” Geoff said as his ghost began looking at its arms and examining itself. “I have a ghost.”

Gavin hummed, then quickly grabbed his bow and an arrow, pulling it back and aiming it at Geoff. “Think fast, Achiever.”

“Christ!” Geoff said, ducking automatic. The ghost of Geoff disappeared instantly, leaving behind the same shimmer that fell onto the table that Ray’s had. Gavin retracted his bow and smirked, plopping back down on his chair as Michael stifled his giggles.

“What,” Geoff said, popping back up over the table. “The hell is wrong with you?”

“We definitely have to keep your focus a little better. What kind of ghost can we hope to keep up if the threat of danger from your ally is enough to make you break it?”

“Oh, go to the nether and stay there,” Geoff grumbled, crossing his arms as he sat back down.

“Then it’s settled. We’ll work more on the ghosts,” Jack said, giving the thumbs up.

Ryan grinned and grabbed his red stone staff. “Let’s get to work, boys.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And the plot thickens. Sort of. I tried my hardest to make this not filler but I feel like it turned out that way.  
> I hope you guys like it anyway.


	8. VII

With aching feet, Courtney walked to the window ledge where she liked to sit, reveling in how she had a moment where no one was calling her. She was almost there, ready to sit and relax, when a door opened and someone called her.

After a moment of upset, Courtney let herself look up, then was pleasantly surprised to find Barbara smiling grandly at her from the doorway.

“Courtney! I knew you’d come this way. Come, come here!”

Nodding, Courtney walked over to Barbara; squeaking, Courtney felt herself get yanked into the room by a very eager Barbara, who was surrounded by a few other maids, and Lindsay. Courtney looked around.

“What is all this?”

“We’re pampering ourselves! Well, technically, we’ve volunteered to help Lindsay with her transformation magic. Would you be so inclined to volunteer, too?”

“What sort of transformation magic?” Courtney asked, looking at Lindsay.

“Nothing serious,” Lindsay assured her, grinding something with a mortar and pestle. “It’s mostly long-lasting makeup, simple spells to temporarily change eye colors, and potions that effect hair color. You’d look good with brown hair, Courtney, might I change it for you?”

“Please, don’t take offense to this, Lindsay, but you are just an apprentice, aren’t you? Can I trust your magic?”

“The hair coloring, of course you can. My own hair is not nearly so vibrant a red; I make it this color myself. And I’m fairly confident that I’ll do well with other spells. Call it a hunch, if you will,” Lindsay said, winking at the blonde.

With Barbara grinning her encouragement, Courtney shrugged. “Oh, why not. Let’s turn me into a brunette.”

Lindsay smiled and tapped the cushion in front of her. Courtney pulled out the tight bun she kept her hair in and sat down in front of Lindsay.

“Normally, I have the ladies do something so nothing gets on their shoulders, but you’ve taken care of that for me already. This is a bit revealing for a maid, isn’t it?” Lindsay asked, touching Courtney’s bared shoulders.

Courtney shrugged as Lindsay combed her hair out. “I agree, this is not the garb I would have chosen for a maid. But I was presented with clothes, and I wear them.”

“That’s why I am so glad Lady Griffon dictates what I wear,” Barbara said, shaking her head. “The things King Joel gets away with.”

She leaned in close to Courtney. “King Matt would have never allowed such objectification.”

“I have been lucky, so far,” Courtney said, looking at the other women and lowering her voice. “Though I’ve never heard of the king overstepping his boundaries, I’ve heard of many in his court… taking what is not theirs.”

Lindsay grimaced. “It’s disgusting, how the maids are treated. I’m lucky to have talent with magic, or else I might have been put as a maid. Every one of you is so strong, to deal with the things you do.”

Courtney shivered. “Lindsay, that concoction is freezing!”

“It helps if it’s colder. Trust me, it’ll warm up eventually.”

“So, Courtney,” Barbara said enthusiastically, leaning forward. “What was your home like?”

“My home?”

“Where you come from! I’d love to hear what it was like.”

Courtney smiled. “It was a lovely town, though a bit stifling. I’ll admit, I have an adventurous heart, and wanted desperately to see outside my surroundings. I think that’s why I made peace so quickly with being brought here. This is, though not how I imagined, the adventure I was looking for. So I’m trying to keep up my spirits. Everyone has been kind, so far.”

“Were there really no adventures to be had in your town?” Lindsay asked.

After a moment, Courtney smiled. “There was one.”

Barbara grinned madly. “Oh, go on! Tell us!”

Courtney looked around, then spoke quietly. “There was once an assassination in my town.”

Barbara’s hand flew to her mouth. “No!”

“There was. A member of the Rose Red led an assassination against a visiting noble. It was the talk of the town for weeks.”

Barbara looked downright entertained, but Lindsay clicked her tongue. “There’s more to that, I know it. Come on, tell us more.”

“Well, I may or may not have caught the assassin fleeing.”

Barbara’s eyes went wide and she gasped. “Oh, my God! Were you frightened?”

“No,” Courtney said truthfully. “He… intrigued me. I expected him to kill me, just for seeing him, but he just sort of… froze. And we just stared at each other. Then I said hello, and he approached me.”

“And?”

Courtney smiled. “He stayed around, and we suddenly struck up a sort of romance. I didn’t mean to, of course, but he was charming, and sweet, and I’d never met anyone so lovely before.”

Lindsay hummed. “You began romancing an assassin. What happened?”

Barbara leaned forward a little bit further. Courtney shrugged. “Not much else. I might have been in love, I admit. I think I was, anyway. But, I wasn’t so important to him, in the end.”

“Oh, no! What did he do?”

“I gave him the option to be together, whether staying with me, or me going with him, and we could begin a life together, seeing all the world. He was Portrian, so I assumed we could go there, see what the world had to offer. But in the end, he chose his assassin way of life over the life I offered, and he left.”

“Men,” Barbara said in a huff, crossing her arms. “Always following the end of their swords.”

“Have you seen him since?” Lindsay asked.

“I haven’t. But I do think he might care for me, still.”

“What makes you think this?”

Courtney smiled. “I gave him a rose, because he gave me a proper goodbye before he left. And he swore to me he’d keep it forever. And I’d like to think he has kept it, even if it’s just a silly little memento for him. It means quite a lot in my memory.”

Barbara sighed and looked up, as if picturing the man in her mind. Lindsay continued painting the concoction into Courtney’s hair, chuckling when Barbara looked back at Courtney, wide-eyed.

“What did he look like?”

Courtney smiled. “I told you he was Portrian.”

“And, what, all Portrians look the same? Come on, all you’ve told me is he has dark hair and dark skin! Was he tall?”

“Taller than me. But that’s not saying much.”

“How about build? Was he large and strong, big and powerful?”

Courtney laughed and furrowed her eyebrows. “What on earth are these questions?”

“Come on, Barbara, Rose Reds need to be lithe and nimble, to hop on rooftops and hide in the slimmest shadows,” Lindsay said, raising an eyebrow.

This sparked an debate on the abilities needed to be an assassin, which Courtney laughed at, especially as Barbara emphasized with pantomime and Lindsay threw her hands up in the air in irritation. It was only when Lindsay had painted the entire concoction into Courtney’s hair did they finally stop bickering.

“Alright. Count to one hundred, Courtney,” Lindsay said, setting aside the mortar.

“What?”

“Just, trust me. Start counting,” Lindsay said, holding her hands up by Courtney’s hair.

“Uh, one, two…”

The air around Courtney’s hair began to shimmer, like Lindsay’s palms could expel fairy dust. The shimmer changed color, moving in a kaleidoscope of color as Courtney counted. The paste that Lindsay had painted into Courtney’s blonde hair was fading; Courtney’s hair stopped looking like it was wet as she neared seventy. When Courtney finished counting to 100, Lindsay put her hands down. The shimmer vanished as Lindsay grabbed the hairbrush and pulled it through the thick sheen of Courtney’s now brown hair.

“Ooh, it turned out even better than I imagined. It’s a sort of chestnut color. Maybe even mahogany. Whatever it is, it has a definite red undertone.”

“Red like the rose you gave your dear assassin, eh?” Barbara said, holding up a mirror.

Courtney’s jaw dropped as she looked at her hair in the mirror, reaching a careful hand up. “My goodness, Lindsay. May I touch it?”

“You may do whatever you wish, it’s your hair. That color should last for a few months.”

Courtney ruffled her hair gleefully, delighting in the color of brown against her skin as her hair tumbled around her shoulders. “It’s delightful. Lindsay, you’re wonderful.”

“You’re welcome. Now, who’s next?” Lindsay said, moving to make more of the coloring concoction. A few of the maids tittered and volunteered as Courtney stood to find a mirror that Barbara wasn’t holding. Lindsay began to prep the next maid, who politely requested for hair like Lindsay’s, as Courtney put her hair back up into her bun. Barbara sidled over and smiled.

“It’s lovely, right?”

“Completely.”

“Do you think, if your Rose Red comes looking for you, he’d find you?”

Courtney looked at Barbara and smiled. “Of course. He never described me by my hair. He preferred other attributes.”

When Barbara’s jaw dropped at the implied scandal of the statement, Courtney couldn’t help but laugh.

* * *

“So, uh… where are we going?”

Gavin smiled as Michael tailed him. There was a breeze through the forest; it kicked up the wraps on Gavin’s hood and made Michael’s curly hair even fluffier. Gavin walked between two trees and waited for Michael to catch up. They’d left the hideout after breakfast and had told the others not to worry; they’d be back before nightfall, on a promise, and they should all train, in the meantime. Gavin had taken Michael on a long venture through the woods, and had kept quiet about where he was taking him. And Michael had a curious streak a mile wide.

“We’re going to a secret place. I may have joined you, but I still don’t trust them. And, since you had a problem with the jolly old Achiever, I figured it worked best that I stuck with you. Familiar comrades, you know.”

Michael stepped over a fallen log. “Makes sense. But, seriously, where are we going?”

Gavin jumped on top of a rock and looked around. He stepped off of the rock, took three large strides forward, then turned ninety degrees to the left. Michael watched as Gavin counted out the steps, walking heel to toe. When he counted to fifteen, he hopped up and down on the spot. Smiling, like he’d accomplished something grand, he turned to Michael.

“Right where I remember! Alright, Michael, come here.”

Michael ran over and stood in front of Gavin. With his chest puffed out, Gavin raised his hand to shoulder height and knocked his heels together. “Michael, I am about to show you something I have never shown anyone else. Not even my fellow Creechers. Do you solemnly swear to keep this a secret, on pain of death? No, no, raise your hand when you do it!”

Michael chuckled and raised his hand. “Alright, alright, jeez, I swear. This is between you and me. I’ll never tell anyone.”

“Good,” Gavin said, stepping back and crouching down. He dug his fingers into the grass and got a grip on it before lifting it up, revealing a wooden hatch below the layer of grass and dirt. Down the hatch was a ladder. “Close the door behind you!”

Michael’s eyes went wide when Gavin slipped into the hatch and fell down the hole. Looking around cautiously, Michael stepped into the hole, balancing himself on the rungs of the ladder as he reached up and closed the hatch.

“Uh, Gavin? It’s… it’s kind of dark,” Michael said nervously.

“Just jump straight down. It’s not very far, maybe ten feet, if that. Keep your elbows tucked and just fall.”

Michael swallowed nervously and tucked his elbows close to his body, closing his eyes as he stepped off of the ladder and fell. After a moment, his feet hit something that propelled him back upwards and he flailed, caught off guard by the movement. He fell backwards and landed in a heap on a soft floor, his foot tangled in whatever he’d landed in.

“Oh, I’m sorry!” Gavin laughed, helping Michael free his foot. “I didn’t think you’d fall like that.”

“What the hell did I land on?” Michael said, looking around and still seeing nothing.

“It’s a sort of net. Come on, put your hands on my shoulders, I’ll lead you.”

Michael blindly reached out and felt the leather of Gavin’s creeper skin; he moved his hands up until he felt shoulders.

“Tallyho,” Gavin said, walking forward. Michael made sure to keep as straight as possible; Gavin seemed to know where they were going, but he had no idea if there were things on the walls to deter people from coming into the area. After a short walk, Gavin stopped walking.

“Flint and steel, please!”

Michael groped around in the bag he kept on his waist before he grasped the flint and steel Gavin had entrusted to him. The sound of Gavin’s arrows knocking together clicked through the air.

“Spark the flint and steel right in front of you.”

Obediently, Michael scraped the two things against each other; the sparks flew and suddenly the end of Gavin’s arrow was on fire, dimly lighting the area. Michael watched the movement of the flaming arrowhead as Gavin placed the arrow on the bow, pulled back, then let fly, the string twanging loudly. From where the arrow hit, a line of fire started traveling around an impressively large room, lighting the space well. Michael looked around, his jaw on the ground.

“Welcome to my home,” Gavin said happily, gesturing around.

“How…?”

“It’s part of an old mine. Caved in on some parts. I came across it when— well, when I wanted a place of my own. It’s been a bit of a hazard, since Joel came to power. I never know if they’re going to come in and try and rediscover some old areas. There are a few deposits of gold and lots of iron that I found while expanding it out. But I’ve been safe so far. Come on, let me show you around.”

Michael walked behind Gavin, whose composure had shifted entirely. He was relaxed and calm and did not look as if someone was going to murder him at any moment. He was entirely carefree in his little mine home and Michael liked seeing him so.

“Over here is my little sleeping area. It’s got a bed and some shelves. And here is a crafting table and my furnace. It can get really hot, which is good, when you need to make arrowheads. Spruce wood, by the way, is the best wood for arrows, if you ever wanted to make them. And this is just a general lazy area. For relaxing. And the best part about this place is it’s pre-ventilated and entirely monster free!”

Gavin held his arms out wide, showing off the entirety of the space. “What do you think?”

Michael looked around, then grinned. “I think it’s great. Really, this place is absolutely fantastic.”

Gavin absolutely beamed. “Oh, I’m glad you think so! You know, I have no problem sharing the space. If you ever need to just get away, you are more than welcome to come and use it. I’m sure it wouldn’t be too hard to fashion another bed for you, should you need it.”

Michael sat down on one of the large cushions Gavin had placed in the lazy area. “Why go to all that trouble just for me? Matter of fact, why do you like me so much, anyway?”

Gavin frowned and shrugged. “You were nice to me.”

“You’ve decided to build me a bed in your own secret place, just because I was nice to you?”

“When you’ve been hit over the head and kidnapped and held hostage, you tend to form a bond with the first person who treats you right. Plus, when you’ve been through what I have, you just sort of stick with those who are kind to you.”

“You make it sound like you have no one. I mean, come on, aren’t you in a secret society? Surely other Creechers look out for you.”

Gavin chuckled and sat on the floor in front of a cushion, leaning back onto it with his hands behind his head. “I know you’ve asked something similar of Ray before.”

Michael shrugged. “He said you were loners. I just expected him to be wrong, since there’s an animosity between the two groups.”

Crossing one leg over the other, Gavin sighed and sank deeply into the cushion, relaxing under the glow of the fire on the walls. “We’re not loners. We are indeed a brotherhood, like the Rose Red, though we are not the ‘we bleed together’ type. And we are certainly not the cult they are, what with their carving into each others skin like some strange, acquired fetish.”

Michael couldn’t help the snort that shot out of his nose. Gavin shrugged. “No, we’re not nearly so bizarre. A Creecher is a Creecher as long as she chooses to be.”

“She? Are you confessing something to me, Gavin?”

Gavin rolled his eyes and kicked Michael’s foot in a good-natured manner. “Those in the wrong body are not to be joked about, Jones. I merely say ‘she’ because, at the moment, the lead Creecher is a woman. It’s something we’re taught to do.”

“Is she on the same level as the… what did Ray call them, the High Roses?”

“Certainly not. High Roses are something like kings and queens within the society. The lead Creecher is mostly just that. A leader. They’re not really elected into the position, but they don’t just decide to be there, either.”

Michael frowned. “I don’t follow you.”

“There’s a certain charisma that comes with the role. A natural-born instinct to look over others, with wisdom thrown in. They fall into the role because everyone looks to them for guidance and support. You see, we Creechers… we don’t just decide to pick up a bow and start sniping. Most oftentimes, we’re found, and taken in.”

“What?” Michael sat up straight and looked at Gavin, concerned. “Found?”

“Come now, Michael, I told you the story of my town before,” Gavin said, tutting.

“Well, yeah, you did, but—Creechers are all orphans.”

“Close,” Gavin said, reaching down to scratch his leg. “Creechers take in those who have nowhere else to go. Orphans, runaways, those with cruel families, things like that. We’ve got a few with royal blood in our lines. One was even in line for some throne before he came to us; he’s since gone back and taken his crown. It’s sort of like a place to belong. And I’m going to let you in on a little secret, lad. Not everyone who resides with the Creechers is a Creecher themselves.”

“I don’t follow you.”

“Creecher is a title of honor, something you earn. Not everyone has to be skilled with a bow to be cared for. We are encouraged and taught, as the first Creecher had the skill and passed on his knowledge, but some don’t possess the skill. This doesn’t mean they are abandoned; we were found from that, we’d never be put out again. They are our wards.”

“So how do you become a Creecher?”

“Have you not heard the legends?”

Michael chuckled. “Guess I have. Hit a creeper from long-range with an arrow.”

“Not only hit it, but you have to kill it with the first shot. Creepers can be shot once, even in the head, and not die. You have to know where to hit it. And you have to put enough pull in the bow, if that makes sense.”

Michael shook his head. “It doesn’t, but keep going.”

“When you do this, you have to skin the creeper and make leather out of the skin. Creeper skin is so bizarre when it’s still alive or freshly killed. Like… brittle. Tanning it and turning it to leather makes it so smooth and strong, it’s almost like magic.”

“So, I have a question. Several, in fact.”

“Shoot.”

“The Creechers have a headquarters location, right?”

Gavin nodded. “But I can’t tell you where.”

“Obviously. They don’t make you leave, do they?”

“That would be counter-intuitive to the cause.”

“So why did you leave?”

There was a long silence; the fire crackled as Gavin didn’t say a word. After the awkward air became too thick, Michael cleared his throat. “You don’t have to tell me, if you don’t want to.”

Gavin chuckled and rubbed his forehead. “It’s really not that difficult of a question. I just don’t know how to answer it. I think it’s because I felt I needed to do something with myself? I was taken in and loved by the Creechers and the wards when I had nothing else. They are my family. In fact, the lead Creecher was the one who took me in. She trained me personally, which is why I’m such a dead shot. But I… I needed to validate myself. I hadn’t been by myself more than a month when that lot cracked me on the head and stole me.”

“Holy shit,” Michael said, whistling. “That’s crazy.”

“They encourage us to find ourselves, after being lost. It’s why you hear stories of Creechers selling their skills as assassins. If that’s what calls to them, they are allowed. We do as we please, and we always have a home to return to. Even if we’ve been gone for years, there’s a place for us.”

Gavin sighed and rubbed his eyes. “Ah, all this talk of home is making me a bit too sentimental. Let’s discuss another topic, shall we?”

Michael launched immediately into a question on arrow making, and Gavin was more than willing to answer. As they burned through topics, the fire burned down lower and lower. When the room was dim and almost dark, Gavin stretched.

“We should head back. Wouldn’t want Achiever shitting himself,” Gavin said, standing up. Michael stood and followed him down the corridor, where they hopped over the net and began climbing up the ladder.

“Hey, Gavin, if you only just recently left the Creechers, how did you manage to make this place in so little time?”

“I’ve had this place for years.”

Michael paused on the ladder. “You said you were happy there, though.”

Gavin pushed up the trap door and hauled himself out. “Come now, Michael, even beloved family can get bloody annoying.”

Michael laughed as Gavin extended a hand to help him out. Gavin smiled as Michael touched solid ground. “By the way, that animosity between Creechers and Rose Reds? It’s totally one-sided.”

Michael looked out at the sun, which was close to falling below the horizon as Gavin shut the trap door. “How one-sided?”

“It goes back a few generations. A Creecher assassin and the best Rose Red at the time were commissioned to kill someone at the same time as a contest. The Rosy talked big and bragged, but the Creecher had already assassinated the man and had collected the reward by the time the Rosy got to the target. When the Rosy demanded a rematch, he still lost. The entire society never recovered from the offense.”

Michael’s laughter shook the trees around them; they had to stop so he could compose himself.

“Oh, God. That is hilarious.”

Gavin grinned.


	9. VIII

Geoff was taking advantage of the fact that everyone was leaving him alone (because he was their leader and deserved a break and not because Ray had kicked the shit out of him in training) to lie out in the sun with a bottle of the delicious alcohol Jack bought for him. Ryan had assured him no enemy forces would be able to accidentally sneak up on him, so he was completely at ease with lying on the grass above their hideout, letting the warmth heal his soul.  


He’d been lying about for little more than half an hour when a hawk screech met his ears and he squinted an eye open, catching sight of a black smear streaking across the sky. Groggily, he sat up and extended his arm, waiting for the bird to land. It came down within several moments and Geoff stroked its head in congratulations before reaching for the message tube on its back; he unrolled the piece of paper and read over it for a moment, his mood plummeting with every word.

“No message back. Return home,” Geoff commanded the hawk, raising his arm to help give it the momentum to take off. The hawk screeched again and flew off, zooming off towards the direction of Achievement City. Groaning, Geoff got to his feet and walked over to the trap door of their hideout and jumped into the hole, rubbing his face as he made his way over to the table.

“Everyone together, let’s discuss country matters,” he said, setting the bottle of alcohol on the counter before walking over to the table himself.  
The rebellion, which had been practicing combat on their own, set down their weapons and congregated around the table, sharing looks of concern as Geoff read over the message again. With a deep breath, Geoff looked up from the paper.

“I’ve just received correspondence from Burnie, relaying to me any news of the kingdom. The tidings this time are not good, lads and gents. One of the mines Joel reopened and manned with inexperienced workers had an incident. From what they can deduce, they hit a pocket of lava and couldn’t stop the flow in time.”  
What little color Michael’s skin possessed disappeared. Gavin’s eyebrows shot up in disbelief. Jack covered his hand with his mouth and Ryan and Ray both lowered their heads, as if in respect.

“How many were lost?” Gavin asked quietly.

“As far as they know, somewhere in the range of fifty. If they’d had experienced workers there, they would have known the signs of lava flow and marked it off, or had quick materials on hand, but no, Joel’s so hellbent on getting diamonds and gold and whatever other riches he can get his greedy claws on that he’s willing to risk the lives of the innocent for it.”

They were all silent for a moment, then Ryan spoke. “The news is awful, I agree. But is there any good news?”

“None that I can see. Joel’s been quiet, but a quiet enemy is the most deadly, in my experience.”

“Then perhaps we could tell you, Geoff, the news we have.”

Geoff raised an eyebrow. “You have news for me?”

Ray practically bounced in his seat. “Oh, do we ever!”

“Before we launch our main attack, we’ve decided we’re going to hit Joel right where it’s going to hurt him most,” Ryan said, smiling.

“Oh? And where is that?” Geoff asked, raising an eyebrow.

Ray grinned devilishly and pulled out a throwing knife, tossing it casually in the air before catching it by its blade. “We’re going to hit him in his ego.”

“I have got to hear this,” Jack said, scooting his chair closer to the table and leaning in, intrigued.

Ray and Ryan stood and began to explain their plan. As the explanation drew on longer and longer, Michael and Gavin grew restless. While assuring them they were still listening, they both drifted from the table, Michael to the cupboard for snacks, Gavin near the wall with his weapons. When Ray and Ryan were finished talking, there was a long pause. The silence was broken only by Michael chewing on a handful of almonds.

“So, what do you think?”

“You are fucking nuts. You literally cannot be serious. Is he serious?”

Geoff looked at Jack, who cast him a sympathetic glance, as Ryan and Ray stood in front of them, looking smug and satisfied.

“We most definitely are serious. No one else really has the knack for it, but Ray’s taken to it like he’s got magic in him,” Ryan said, gesturing to the assassin.

“It’s the runes on my blades. Makes magic nicer to me,” Ray said with a wink.

“Let me get this straight,” Geoff said, reaching for his glass of whiskey. “You want to make a ghost of Ray so we can send it further than we’ve ever sent a ghost?”

“And not just further than we’ve ever sent one. Right into Joel’s bedroom,” Ray said, grinning.

Geoff inhaled and choked on his whiskey, coughing as Michael stared at Ray with wide-eyes. “Are you out of your goddamn mind?”

“Maybe a little.” Ryan put his arms behind his back and grinned. “But what have we got to lose? Worst case, we can’t get Ray’s ghost far enough, and a phantom is wandering around the woods. Big deal. This is a huge blow to Joel’s ego!”

“What good is an ego blow going to do us when the man has an army?” Geoff shouted, getting to his feet. “We’re not here to make him feel bad about himself, we’re here to end his reign of tyranny!”

“It’s going to work.”

All eyes turned around and looked at Gavin, who was sitting lazily on a rocking chair, one foot on the ground, rocking him back and forth as he fiddled with his arrows and bow. He looked simple and unimposing without his arm guards or hood on.

“Why’s that?” Jack asked, tilting his head.

“It’s going to work,” Gavin said, holding up his bow and pulling the string, testing the elasticity. “Because it’s not going to hit Joel’s ego.”

“I don’t follow,” Michael said, puzzled.

“Think about it,” Gavin said, snapping the string. The sound made Jack flinch. “Joel’s ego is not the problem here. And hurting his ego isn’t going to change anything. But there is something that Joel is that we can mess with, and it’s that Joel is unstable. He’s a creeper in human skin and it will not take much to make him explode. Sending something like Ray’s ghost into his bedroom is going to send him over.”

“Ray’s ghost isn’t solid, is it? You can’t touch it,” Michael said, looking back at Ray and Ryan.

“Completely intangible. It’s like smoke,” Ryan said.

“So the plan is not just to have Ray’s ghost barge in there, swords drawn, and laugh while Joel can’t fight him. The trick is to make Joel think he’s seeing things at first. Put some fractures in him. Can Ray see what his ghost sees?”

Ray nodded. Gavin pointed an arrow at him. “Then we use that to our advantage.”

“That’s brilliant. We get Ray in there just long enough for Joel to think he’s being watched, then pull him out. We keep doing it until we think he’s gonna crack, then bam. We hit him with a finishing blow!” Geoff hit his fist to his hand.

Michael held a hand up. “Relax a little, Achiever.”

“You relax,” Geoff grumbled, wrinkling his nose.

“No, Michael’s right. We don’t want to Joel to completely insane,” Ryan said, tapping his chin thoughtfully. “We want him right there on the edge. Just enough that he’s going to be a lot more irrational. Making bad decisions. Easier to take out.”

“Shall we try tonight?” Jack asked, looking at his comrades.

“Strike while the iron’s hot,” Gavin said, hopping off of his chair. “What better time to put in the first fractures than the present?”

“Agreed,” Geoff said, holding up his glass.

“I’m not sure I can manage sending him all the way to Achievement City tonight. A week, maybe, and we’ll have it perfected, but not before then,” Ryan said, crossing his arms.

Michael leaned back in his chair. “What are we going to do until then?”

“Until then, we practice,” Gavin said, knocking an arrow into place and drawing it back. Instinctively, everybody ducked, swearing at the Creecher. With a laugh, Gavin withdrew the arrow from its position.

“I’m up for some long-range target practice. I’ll be outside, if anyone wants to join me. Care to be my target, Achiever?”

“Oh, you’re such a riot.”

* * *

Lindsay glanced down the hall, making sure no one was around, before she ran to Gus’ chamber, careful not to make too much noise. With feet lighter than air, she stepped over to the bowl of water that stood near a wall, her hood pulled up over her eyes. The bowl of water glistened with a light that came from within, and, with another glance over her shoulder to make sure she was alone, she held her hand over the water, staring into the seemingly endless depths.  
She murmured words under her breath and held her hand steady; the water went cloudy, then clear, and, like a window, Lindsay could see the world through it, as clear as day. The image presented to her was one of a sunny clearing, with three strapping young men, all in different outfits, all with weapons. Their intent was not malicious, and more like sport. The one in green did seem, however, a little more interested in humiliating the others.

With a flick of the wrist, Lindsay focused on the one in the brown vest, his curls ablaze with the light from the sun. The sword he brandished, a claymore from ages past, glint in the sun like it was brand new, the blade shimmering and sharp. He was engaged in a sword fight with the man in black, who was lithe and limber and liked to use trees to his advantage. Despite the obvious skill of the man in black, the man with the curls fought and held his own.

Lindsay sighed like a maiden and stared at the water, wishing deeply that she could reach out and touch the freckles dusted across the man’s cheeks. She hadn’t meant to find him, but was awoken one night with a vision of a warrior in the shadow of a bear. She couldn’t see his face, but had searched high and low whenever she could, using Gus’ scrying water as often as she could. She didn’t even know his name, but she knew he was special. And when he joined arms with the ragtag group that meant to take down Joel, she was as proud as could be.

Not for a single moment had Lindsay supported Joel’s cause; she thought he was vile and hated the things he did. His treatment of the people in his kingdom was deplorable and she had never supported anyone so deeply as she supported the so-called Achievement Hunters. However, Lindsay had been alone, and had struck fear in many people’s hearts, with her appearance alone. Joining the castle staff as Gus’ apprentice meant safety from not only the people in the kingdom, but from Joel’s forces.

She sensed a strong force within this curly-headed boy that so fascinated her; he looked fairly unimposing, save for the sword and the rugged nature of his clothes, but something lingered underneath the surface, quiet and reserved, ready to be unleashed. Lindsay couldn’t wait to see what that force was.  
The boys swung their swords, batted away false arrows with padded ends, and threw daggers in the sunshine, preparing their small battalion for a fight they couldn’t quite imagine, protected from Joel and his mage by Lindsay’s watchful gaze and their own mage’s blanket protection.

It had been tricky getting through their mage’s cover. He was exceptionally gifted, and had a reason to not be found. Gus had all but given up from the impossibility, but Lindsay was a little more determined, and had a purpose, as well as a little bit of darkness on her side. She and Gus had both come into Joel’s realm with the same idea, to keep safe from his tyranny by serving him, but Gus had no outside interests besides his own skin. Lindsay couldn’t begrudge him that.

She watched the men in the clearing for another moment before letting the image fade away, lest she risk getting caught. She certainly didn’t want anyone important catching on to the fact that she could do much more than rudimentary magic, especially since she’d been lying about it. It was best she kept her profile low and her eye watchful in secret. With the same quiet feet, Lindsay slipped out of Gus’ room, not leaving a trace.

* * *

The days were getting longer and longer as the boys prepared. Ryan had gotten good at freezing water to make ice for any injuries sustained, and was an even better healer, thanks to everyone getting a little overzealous. Though they had agreed real weapons were better to practice with, Gavin was forbidden from using anything other than his padded arrows. They agreed that it was because arrows were faster, but they all secretly believed Gavin wouldn’t hesitate to shoot them with real arrows and be on his merry way, free of them and their conflict. The padded arrows, however, left nasty, perfect circle bruises wherever they hit.

They trained hard during the day, enacting Gavin’s plan of making up their weaknesses with the strengths of another, and Geoff especially was proud of the progress they were making. All six of them could jump into battle with any of the others and know how to move and attack to compliment the others. And during the night, they sent Ray’s ghost after Joel. For the first week, Ryan couldn’t get Ray’s ghost any further than the walls of the city, where Ray would send his ghost wandering, trying to get it past the limitations of the magic. But they tried, and kept trying, and it was one night when Ray and Ryan kept at it after the others had gone to rest that they made progress.

“Oh, my God!” Ray screamed, immediately covering his mouth as Ryan waved at him to be quiet. The rest of the group, who had been in various states of sleep, stumbled out of the beds lined against the walls, sleepily brandishing weapons. Gavin, his hair messy and eyes half closed, tripped over his own feet while reaching for an arrow in his quiver; Michael immediately tripped over Gavin’s legs and landed on his face.

“What is it?” Geoff asked blearily, holding his shield out like his sword. “Is it another Enderman?”

“We did it!” Ray said, pointing at Ryan. “I saw inside of Joel’s room! I saw his crown, and his wardrobe, and he was there, standing by the window!”

“What?” Jack rubbed an eye and set down his ax. “You were there?”

“And he would probably still be there if he hadn’t screamed. Your ghost says the words you say, you know, until you learn to control it a little better,” Ryan said, hands on his hips.

“So, what,” Michael said, standing and extending a hand to Gavin. “We can finally move forward?”

“It looks like it, boys,” Ryan said, smiling. “The big fight begins now.”

* * *

Joel stood stock still in his bedroom, struck dumb by the shout. He hadn’t recognized the voice, and had no idea where it had come from. It had chilled him to his bones, and as quickly as it shattered the stillness, it had disappeared. The cold sweat on his skin refused to warm him and his heart pounded. He was frozen for a solid minute before he called for his guards. Three came running in.

“What is it, Your Highness?” one asked, bowing.

“There was an intruder,” Joel nearly stuttered, his heart still racing. “Search the room.”

The three guards proceeded to turn the room upside down, tearing down curtains and ripping open cupboards. Joel stood flush against the wall, willing himself to relax as the guards searched. When they came up empty, Joel sighed.

“Perhaps it was just my imagination,” Joel said, waving a hand at his guards. “Be off with you.”

The guards bowed and left the room, looking between each other but not daring to say a word. Joel got into bed, but didn’t sleep at all that night, his mind plagued with thoughts of who or what had shouted at him. The next night found him desperate for sleep, and he actually managed to get some before he woke in panic to find a figure in a hood and cloak standing at the foot of his bed. Words froze in his throat as the figure tilted his head up and placed a finger against his mouth, then vanished. Joel jumped out of bed and began searching around his room frantically, looking for the intruder. When he came up empty, he put himself back to sleep with a bottle of brandy, unable to find any other means.

It happened night after night, with Joel either seeing a flash of the person in the mirror, around a corner, or waking up in a cold sweat with the person watching him. When a week had passed and he had found himself jerked away in fear, with the figure hanging on his bedpost, grinning maliciously before mimicking a biting motion then falling to the floor, dissolving into a shimmer, Joel finally sent for Gus; his heart pounded and he paced nervously as his guards fetched his mage. Whatever this was, Gus would know exactly how to stop it, or at least know what it was.

“Alright, the guards didn’t tell me what you wanted, but they did say it was urgent. What couldn’t have waited until morning?” Gus asked, looking incredibly tired and irate.

“There has been—” Joel started fiercely, then stopped and looked at his guards. He waved them out of the room, then continued when they left. “There has been an intruder in my room.”

“Am I really the best person to tell this to? Not one of your knights?”

“This is different,” Joel said, gripping his fists. “This is not a real intruder.”

Gus blinked slowly, then raised an eyebrow. “I may have a tonic for nightmares. I cannot help your sanity.”

Joel nearly hissed. “I’m not imagining this. He… well, he is real, but he’s a phantom. He comes and goes. He appears, then dissolves into nothing when I see him. He mocks me. He’s magic.”

With a hum, Gus tapped his chin, thinking it over. After a moment, he turned and looked around the room. Joel stood stiffly, watching as Gus meandered around, looking at everything. When he made a complete circuit of the chambers, he came back to Joel and nodded.

“There’s a streak of magic here.”

“That doesn’t tell me what is happening here!” Joel said.

Gus shrugged. “I can’t help you any further.”

“So, it’s not them?”

“I can’t say at this point. It doesn’t feel like their mage’s magic, but you never know. For now, I’d say you have no reason to worry about them. What’s been happening here is harmless. You have no reason to worry.”

Joel nodded, but was not comforted. He stood at the foot of his bed and leaned against one of the bedposts, puzzling over his options. Gus seemed sure that no harm was going to befall him, but he couldn’t help but be a little more cautious, a little more nervous that it was his life on the line. And if it was that band of thugs who wanted to end him, he was going to find them, have them locked in chains before him, and burned. And he would personally strike the flint that would engulf them in fire.

* * *

Gavin sat high in a treetop, leg dangling off the branch he was sitting on. He’d cited that he needed some fresh air, which was true, but he also had another motive, one that he kept entirely secret. The treetop on which he sat overlooked the large lake they bathed and washed their clothes in; he kept his eyes trained on the surface, glittering from the setting sun.

The branches below him rustled after he’d been aloft for maybe fifteen minutes. Casting a glance backward, Gavin sighed as Ray hoisted himself up and leaned on the branch Gavin was sitting on.

“Is this your hiding place?”

“Not even remotely,” Gavin said, leaning against the tree trunk. “I’d invite you up, but I don’t think the branch can take it.”

“That an insult against my weight, Creecher?”

“Why? Worried about those few extra pounds, Rosy?” Gavin said, raising an eyebrow.

“Ouch. Look, Gavin, I know you don’t think that this fight is yours—”

“It’s not.”

“—But it’s not mine either, and I’m still choosing to fight. Do you know why?”

Gavin gestured at Ray. “Why don’t you enlighten me?”

“It’s because it’s the right thing to do. You and me? We have skills that people can only dream of. We can do things that people never thought possible. We are strong.”

“I’m flattered, but I’m still not seeing a valid reason.”

Ray tapped the branch with his knuckles. “I believe that, as the strong, we have to protect those who are weak. It’s why we are strong, Gavin. We have the obligation to look out for those who cannot fend for themselves. Joel was strong at one point, and he began serving his own interests instead of protecting others. I won’t be in the same class as him, and I wager you won’t want to be, either. So you can either do this begrudgingly, or you can suck it up and do your duties as a protector.”

Gavin stayed quiet for a long moment, unsure of how to respond. He ran his finger along the blunt side of the dagger on his thigh, thinking about what Ray had told him.

“When the sun sets, we’re preparing to set out to actually taunt Joel with my ghost. Ryan wants us all there; something about all our energies might help. I don’t know. So you had better be back to the hideout when sun sets, got it?”

“Yes.”

“And Gavin,” Ray said, nodding his head toward the lake. “You’re not all subtle secrets like you want to be.”

“Excuse me?”

“I see how you watch him. Either say something to him or let it fucking go. It’s not healthy for you to bottle that in like that.”

Gavin felt his cheeks grow red. “I have no idea what you mean.”

“You didn’t come up here to relax. You came up here because Michael went down to the lake, and you’re a coward. At least be honest with yourself, Creecher.”

Gavin huffed and felt his stomach twist as Ray started climbing back down the tree.

* * *

“Have we got everything prepared?” Geoff asked nervously, sitting by Ray’s feet in a circle with the rest of the lads and gents. They had convened at sunset and had waited until they were sure Joel had gone to bed before they commenced; it was close to midnight.

“We couldn’t be any more prepared than we are at this very moment. And Ray’s got this down pat. He could have ten ghosts and never lose control of one. I’m glad you take well to it, Ray,” Ryan said, smiling.

“I try. Alright, just get my ghost into the bastard’s bedroom, then I’ll handle it from there.”

“Remember, you have to speak out loud what you’re thinking so we know what’s going on. I know you’ve mastered thinking the actions, but we need to know what’s going on. And you only need to say the word and we’ll pull you back,” Ryan reminded him, balancing his spellbook on his lap.

“I got it. Let’s get this going.”

Ryan muttered the spell and a ghost of Ray appeared almost instantly, then it fizzled out and left a trail of shimmer as it shot off. The lads and gents looked at each other in their circle, concerned, but not worried that Ray couldn’t handle it.

Without a word, Ray gave a thumb’s up. His ghost was in Joel’s chambers.

“Let’s get this going, boys,” Geoff said, cracking his knuckles.

In Achievement City, a cold sweat broke out over Joel’s skin as he slept. The chill soaked into his bones before he jerked awake and looked straight up, his eyes going wide as he saw a man in a black hood staring down at him with a jack-o-lantern grin.

“Evening, Your Highness,” Ray said brightly, jumping deftly onto the floor, bowing in exaggeration. “So lovely to finally make your acquaintance.”

“You again. You don’t know what kind of mistake you’ve made,” Joel said darkly, grabbing the dagger on his bedside table.

“Nice knife. You eating cheese and crackers in bed?” Ray asked.

“Ray, I swear,” Gavin murmured back in their hideout, shaking his head.

“Why don’t you taste the steel and tell me?” Joel replied fiercely, jumping out of bed and brandishing it at Ray.

“Oh, a duel! You surely can’t expect this to be fair, Majesty,” Ray said, drawing his sword from his side and swinging it around, showing off greatly.

“Shit, watch it, Ray! Come on, just make him do it!” Michael nearly screeched as they all ducked out of the way of Ray’s bravado.

“But, you know what? Royalty first. Look, have the first blow,” Ray said, sheathing his sword. “Go on, no tricks. Lunge. I did break in, and I have done it a lot, so I have every right to be put to death.”

Joel sized Ray up, threw caution to the wind, and ran forward, preparing to run him through with the dagger he possessed. When he reached Ray but was met with no resistance, he stumbled and fell to his floor, eyes going wide as he watched Ray’s midriff fizzle, then rematerialize.

“Oh, yeah, did I mention that I’m not actually here? Yeah, I’m a ghost, come to warn you without any risk of you trying to stab me,” Ray said, facing Joel with a cheerful grin, the hood still up over his eyes.

“What do you want with me?” Joel yelled, his heart pounding.

Ray let out a bark of laughter. “What don’t I want with you? I want my company to succeed. So, I’ve come to tell you that you’re going to lose.”

“Your company? You look like a Rose Red. What could the Rose Red possibly want with me?” Joel demanded, glaring at Ray.

“The Rose Red? Oh, God, they couldn’t care less about you. No, we’re a little group of people who are dedicated to seeing you fall from your throne with a broken crown. Some lads and gents, mixed together for the sole purpose of ending your dynasty.”

Joel’s eyes went wide. “Achievement Hunters. It is you. You’ve been doing this.”

“Hmm. Achievement Hunters. That would have been the last name I came up with, but that is actually pretty good.”

Gavin nodded. “I kind of like that name.”

“I do, too. Who knew Joel would do something good for us?” Geoff joked, looking back up at Ray.

“What is it you hope to accomplish, with your ragtag group of miscreants, who have no real skill against my army?” Joel said, eyes narrowing.

“Oh, we can hope to accomplish quite a lot, but that’s not the point. The point is, you think your army can defeat us because it outnumbers us. But we’ve got superior skills, and a reason to loathe you.”

“Is your hatred supposed to scare me?”

Ray pulled out his sword again and pointed it at Joel. “Oh, no, Highness. Our ability to crush you should scare you. No matter the steps, we will win this fight, and we will show no mercy.”

“I shake with fear,” Joel said, sneering.

“As you should. Keep in mind, Highness. We six are not the only ones who want to end your reign. You see, we alone could take you down. But we’re not alone. We’ve got people on the inside, sharpening their blades for your throat.”

A muscle twitched under Joel’s eye. With a large flourish of his cape, Ray grinned and bowed again. “Enjoy your crown, while you can, villain.”

In a flash, Ray was gone, leaving behind the shimmer. Joel watched it fall to the floor, then he began breathing heavily and looking around, his heart racing in panic.

“There is nothing they can do. I am powerful. I am the king.”

Irrational, Joel ran to his window, threw it open, and leaned out of it, the cold of the night air chilling the sweat on his face. “Do you hear me, you vile Achievement Hunters? I am the king!”

In their hideout, Ray smiled happily as Ryan looked into Joel’s chamber with his scrying mirror. “That couldn’t have gone any better.”

Geoff stood and dusted off his pants. “His paranoia is getting the better of him. He’s never been very stable, but he’s been never so unsure of his power. We’re chipping at his exterior and exposing the vulnerability on the inside.”

“Aw, he’s a marshmallow on the inside!” Jack said cheerfully, clapping his hands.

“Not the description I’d have gone with,” Ryan said, looking vaguely tired. “But in essence, yes. This is what’s going to be his undoing. He’s already fractured. It’s only going to take the slightest of pressure to make him break.”

Michael grinned. “But why use the slightest pressure when you can hit as hard as you can?”

“Oh, I’m so glad you think like that,” Geoff said happily.

“The time to attack draws closer,” Ryan said, looking up from his mirror.

Gavin nodded. “We’re ready.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shout out to Ghost Ray


	10. Vignette

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little break from the main for something important

“There’s a ghost here, I know there is! I was walking down the corridor to fetch a midnight snack and it passed me by, dressed in black, and it didn’t even see me! It just… floated on by!”

“You’re off your tit, Jessamine, there’s no ghosts in the castle. Why would one suddenly manifest now when no one has ever heard of there being one before?”

“I’m telling you I know what I saw!”

Griffon listened intently to the women outside her door as Barbara and another servant girl dressed her in the ridiculous purple and gold dress so she could stand for another session of her portrait. They were simple girls, with thick accents, but they were nice enough, and the one’s insistence on hauntings had her intrigued.

“Have you girls heard any rumors about a ghost?”

“There are a few maids who discuss it, My Lady,” Barbara said, pinning the dual row of pearls on Griffon’s hair. “Some swear they see a ghost wandering the halls at night, others think it’s just superstition.”

“I’ve seen him!” one of the girls said, nodding. “In the dead of night! He just… walks by, like he can’t even see you. Sometimes he mutters to himself, and other times, it’s like he’s walking blind!”

“I have heard some stories about this ghost talking to himself about things like canvas, of all subjects. Goodness, I hope we’re not haunted.”

“If we are haunted, it seems the ghost is a benevolent one.” Griffon sucked in a deep breath as the girls laced her corset, giving her adequate room to breathe.

“There have been a few maids talking about noises, and I heard a guard mention something crashing, like one of the decorative suits of armor, or the vases. It’s all very mysterious.”

“Ida from the kitchens says she swears she saw a shadow steal an entire loaf of bread and a basket of fruit from under her nose. Some dark-dressed specter that swept out of the kitchen without a word!” The girl shook her head. “Who knew ghosts had to eat?”

“Out of all the rumors I’ve heard, the only consensus is that this ghost is rather short and has incredibly dark hair. Odd, isn’t it?” Barbara said, helping Griffon into her dress.

A smile broke out on Griffon’s face as the girls continued to dress her. After they completed, she made her way, without her shoes, to the studio where she’d been standing for her painting. Inside it, Monty sat on a chair, perched like a bird, mixing paints and looking like he hadn’t slept in days.

“My dear Monty,” Griffon said, walking over to him.

“The Lady Griffon,” Monty said, taking her hand and kissing it. “A pleasure, as always.”

“All the girls have been talking, Monty, and I have to ask your opinion. Have you heard anything about the castle being haunted?”

“I really couldn’t say. I don’t really listen to anyone. I’m too involved in… this,” Monty said, gesturing to his paints.

“Perhaps, friend, you should be listening to them,” Griffon said, choking back a laugh. “I think the ghost is you.”

The time it took Monty to think about what Griffon said was short and comical, if his quizzical eyebrows were any indication. “I’m a ghost?”

“Oh, yes!” Griffon said, smiling. “Skulking around at all hours of the night muttering about canvases, not speaking to anyone, stealing food from the kitchens? You’ve got all the maids gossiping scared.”

Monty hummed, then looked at his knees. “All because I walk around at night?”

“Because you pretend like everything around you doesn’t exist, you single-minded artist,” Griffon said, placing a hand on Monty’s cheek. “Perhaps responding to the people who address you would be a better start. Not being holed up here most of the time would probably help, too.”

“I don’t know. I think I like that I could be a ghost. Less people would bother me. And they’d run away from me.”

Griffon laughed, running her hands affectionately through Monty’s black hair. “Oh, my sweetheart, never change.”

“I don’t think I’m capable, My Lady.”

The genuine smile Monty bestowed upon her warmed Griffon’s heart. Monty skulked about like a phantom, had terrified the maids, and was incapable of keeping his studio clean as he worked on three paintings at a time, with sketches and other papers strewn about, signs of his productivity. And as Monty painted Griffon with the single-minded tenacity of a focused master, Griffon couldn’t help but feel happy.

Monty would never change. But, she now knew, she didn’t want him to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just wrote this out really quickly because... I don't know. It helps. Losing Monty has hit me so hard, as I'm sure it's hit all of us, and I thought having a little vignette focused on him in this story (which I swear I'm still writing, I'm just ridiculously slow with it) might ease the ache a little bit.  
> I have no intention of writing Monty out of this story; he's part of this, just as necessary as the Achievement Hunters. And here, I felt it was necessary to honor the man who has inspired me endlessly with the things he did and his outright tenacity for perfection. I owe it to him, as do we all, to be as true to ourselves as we can be.  
> If anyone here is still unsure how to cope or needs a lending ear, my Tumblr username is norcalnoise and my Rooster Teeth name is exklusiv. If you need anything, my messages are always open. I'll be the shoulder you cry on.  
> Monty meant so much to so many. And it's so important that we never forget who he was, or what he stood for. Do the best you can every single day, chase your dreams, and don't let anything stand in your way.  
> You will be missed, Monty Oum.

**Author's Note:**

> I don't actually hate any of these people and the only reason I use Joel as the bad king is because no one else fit. I hope no one minds.


End file.
